When All Else Fails
by AtlantisJoeFan
Summary: The continuing story of John Sheppard and Cat. John should have known better that to sit back and enjoy the moment. Life just didn't play out like that.
1. Chapter 1

_Rating is T – sometimes more adult themes.  
Summary: Romance, adventure, emotional and physical whump with John Sheppard and now established O/C Cat  
Season: After Season 5, in a world where Atlantis stayed in The Pegasus Galaxy and the series never ended.  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Though John Sheppard is in my guilty imagination_

_A/N:- This is a follow up to my story all the other John/Cat stories. I'm not sure how long this will be yet, but several chapters at least. Written to ease the pain of the end of the series._

The midnight sky twinkled with the many stars that gleamed through the unusual clearness, free of the clouds that usually shrouded the planet. She sat, exhausted, at the top of the hill, relieved at having made it at last, but knowing too that she'd have to drag her old bones back down to the settlement again if all her efforts were not to prove futile. The stone altar, broken and worn after centuries of being battered by the elements, stood proudly before her. On the top lay the flower petals that she'd scattered as she had hundreds of times before, as a gift to the Ancestors. A year and a half ago she'd first felt the stirring of something new in the galaxy, a suggestion of something amazing, but then she'd not known what that faint feeling had meant. Two nights ago she'd heard it. A little but strong voice calling out to her in a language she didn't recognise. And then she had known. This was the portent. Finally, the prophesied coming had happened, the sole purpose for her existence and that of the generations of priestesses who had come before her, each searching for the one who would change the galaxy and lead them to a higher plane of existence, beyond the confines of the mortal body, now so frail and weak.

Marlana looked up to the heavens once more. Yes, there it was. The exact alignment of the stars told of in the ancient prophecy and just visible was the greeny-blue planet that she'd been searching for all these years, glowing faintly but clearly. And more than that, the feeling that went deep into her old bones of a presence both ancient and brand new, both all knowing and naive, both old and very, very young. All the stories, all the times she'd struggled up here, always disappointed, now receded to nothing. She needed to find her way back down the rocky hill top and return to the temple. The Oracle needed to know that the time had come.

***

In the early hours of the Atlantis morning the refectory was always bathed in a golden glow, reflecting like copper off the verdigree walls of the city. The team sat companionably at their usual table and in their usual places. John looked up from his tray, a mouthful of oatmeal, and observed with a smile the habitual snarking between Rodney and Ronon. Even after all these years, Ronon loved to goad Rodney by putting just too much food in his mouth at once or using his knife instead of his fork. And even after all this time, Rodney would take the bait and grimace at the apparent vulgarity of his friend. Teyla sat calmly observing the proceedings, as ever, smiling at the two men with patient amusement. John smiled too, and then shoved his chair away from the table and casually leaned back, taking the opportunity to look out across the ocean, shimmering with early morning light. It was these moments of calm and normality that made the rest manageable: the stress and strain of command; the constant threat from some faction or other in the Galaxy; the still haunting guilt of all those he'd left behind along the way. And he had his wife to thank for much of the peace and calm he was feeling right now.

Cat had long ago realised that what he needed was some time to re-establish the routines that bound him and his team together. At first, she'd been jealous of anyone else who dared to take his attention away from her, as though by diverting his gaze he might forget about her. Then, after Mona's birth (for Mona it now was! The name came naturally after the child had learned to smile. An imperious smile that could be charming, flirtatious or demanding as she felt fit and she had her father wrapped around her little finger) he hadn't wanted to miss a moment of his daughter's growing and had spent less and less time with his team outside of missions. The dynamic began to suffer as a consequence and, though still close, they had begun to lose some of the unspoken connections that tied them together. Eventually, she'd insisted that he return to some of his pre-marriage, pre-fatherhood habits, and breakfast with his three friends was just one of them. He'd also resumed the early morning runs with Ronon and the late night computer games with Rodney.

Sitting here, having a moment to appreciate what he had, he felt a peace and calm that had so often eluded him in the past. Who would have thought that the loner who had left home on a supposed one-way ticket to The Pegasus Galaxy, one failed marriage, an apparently terminally damaged military career and no family ties to speak of being all that he'd brought with him, would have a life so rich that he had nearly managed to obliterate all the bad from his memory. That he'd find a niche in a galaxy far, far away, where his own brand of leadership skills was most needed and a wife whom he loved beyond measure who had given him not only her unconditional love but a beautiful daughter, was a source of constant amazement to him. At times, the knowledge jumped up at him like a large friendly puppy welcoming him home after a long day at work, surprising him with its warmth and affection.

This morning, he'd left Cat planning the last few details of Mona's first birthday party. As ever, his wife was efficient to the point of annoyance and he was more than glad to be sitting here rather that finding himself press-ganged into yet another mission for decorations or party food. And, he still had three more days of it to get through before the 'big day'. If it were up to him, they would have had a small and private celebration, but Cat had been insistent. Mona was an important part of Atlantis life: to the people here she was more than just another child. When she was born, it seemed as though she were the final chink in the chain that bound the city's inhabitants together and she symbolised the shift from expedition to colony. Watching her too, when he or Cat took her about the city, you would think she was Queen of the colony! He half expected her to wave to the masses as she was pushed around in her pushchair. It was something they would certainly have to watch, lest she turned into a totally spoilt and obnoxious teenager, but much of the attention was due to his daughter's beauty. Cat was fond of saying that she couldn't believe she was her mother sometimes, so like him was his daughter, and it was true that her dark unruly hair and hazel eyes were his though they were flecked with a much richer emerald than he could ever lay claim to, but he also saw something else in her that was all Cat. There was a spirit deep within Mona radiating outward which felt and looked like his wife. It was not something he could easily pin point and say it was in a particular feature or a specific look, but it was most definitely there.

His reverie was brought to an abrupt halt by the acerbic tones of Rodney McKay. 'And, if Zelenka thinks he can cheat me of this little discovery, he's very much mistaken. So now, if you'll excuse me, I'm back to finding new and life-changing solutions to the problems of the Universe and not being recognised for them.' At this, McKay swung from his chair and bustled from the room.

'What was that about?' queried John.

Ronon shrugged. 'Something about quarks and quantum, I think. The usual.' The big Satedan eased himself to standing, conversation and breakfast clearly over.

'Okaaay!' John drawled lazily. 'I guess that means the day's started. Let's go troops and let's be careful out there.' He laughed at his little 'joke', then realised that Teyla was his only audience and would have no idea what 'Hill Street Blues' was, let alone the reference, a thought confirmed by her slightly quizzical raised eyebrow as she too headed off for her morning exercise.

For John, it was his morning briefing with Woolsey that called and he couldn't say it was exactly the highlight of his day. Having said that, although the man was still a pedantic pain-in-the –ass, he had also proved to be a damn good leader and John respected him more than he had expected to. It was just that these habitual meetings were often so taken up with the minutiae of the daily grind that it was hard to be enthusiastic about them. He made at attempt to persuade his body and mind to engage in the upcoming meeting by bouncing up the stairs to Woolsey's office, earning some amused smiles from some of his men and a few admiring looks from the female technicians who watched his long legs and disappearing rear with more than just amusement.

'Good morning, Colonel,' said Woolsey formally, as usual, 'please sit down.'

John perched on the square arm of one of the soft white chairs, knowing that it irritated Atlantis' commander, who frowned impatiently before continuing.

'I've asked Major Lorne to join us today. He has some important Intel which I think you should hear.' John shot his a curious glance. This wasn't the usual Woolsey routine. He knew that Lorne had been off-world until yesterday evening and wondered what bad news was coming his way to spoil the serenity he'd felt that morning. 'Whenever,' he thought pessimistically,' life seems to hit an even keel, some bugger always decides to upset the boat.'

On cue Evan Lorne arrived, looking tired and anxious.

'Major, please would you tell Colonel Sheppard what you heard from our contacts yesterday?'

Lorne cleared his throat, made uncomfortable by the news he needed to give his commanding officer. 'Well, sir, we have found out that there is a rumour going round about a prophet child being born into the galaxy...a girl.' He paused, hoping that the Colonel might presume enough to make the next bit easier, but only met by an uncomprehending stare he had to continue. 'Our contacts tell me that there is a cult on one of the outer planets which believes that this child is destined to bring great joy to their people and to help them to reach a higher level of existence. By this, I think we can assume that they mean ascension. The child, this girl, is supposed to be raven haired with green eyes and her appearance signifies the return of the Ancestors to their children, the humans in this galaxy.'

This time there was no doubting the understanding as the Colonel leapt up from the chair and strode anxiously towards Lorne. 'You're not trying to tell me that there is a group of lunatics out there who believe that my daughter is some kind of prophetess, are you? Because that's darn right disturbing.' There was no disguising the worry in his voice.

'Yes, sir, I'm afraid so. Our contact also said that we should make sure the girl was well protected. That this 'cult' is quite capable of trying to take her, so strong are their beliefs.'

John looked at Woolsey. 'This is ridiculous. She's just a baby.' He really couldn't think of anything else to say, his mind full of parental worry and projected fears for his daughter.

'Colonel, for the time being I believe that Catherine and Mona should remain on Atlantis. I know that you wanted to take her to New Athos as part of her birthday celebrations, but I really think that this is not the time to take risks. Let me send Major Lorne back out again, and see if we can't make contact with some other 'friends' who might have more to tell us. There's no point in taking any risks, not that I think we should jump to too many conclusions yet.'

John nodded in agreement. However ridiculous the whole thing was, there was no reason to take unnecessary risks. Cat wouldn't like it but he was certain she'd agree, even if there was no real danger. How much he should tell her and when were more difficult decisions and he decided that it could wait until after the birthday party, there being no need to dampen the excitement. His daughter would be safe while in Atlantis, and that was all that mattered for now.

It had been an exhausting few days and Cat sank into the bed gratefully. Tomorrow was Mona's birthday and the little girl certainly seemed to know something was up. She loved her daughter beyond measure but she was so hyper-active when awake, which was now most of the day, that Cat was usually exhausted and slightly bad-tempered by the time John came home. Mona had walked from nine months old, eschewing the usual shuffle or crawl stage, and was already speaking several words (mostly to do with 'dad' dada' or 'daddy') and sporting an almost full set of brilliant white teeth. Her hair, not thin and sparse like some one year olds, was already thick and cut into a shiny dark bob, stray hairs sticking up uncontrollably like her father's especially if Cat couldn't catch her with a hair brush. She was fiery and determined, and let's face it, was totally the boss in this establishment and there were times when Cat wished John could be a more stay-at-home dad. More than once today Mona had flashed her emerald eyes in absolute refusal to do anything other than just what she wanted. Finally, the little girl had collapsed into a sleepy pile, amazing her mother yet again with her ability to be in one of only two states: totally awake, or totally asleep. At least she knew that a long peaceful night always followed a tiring, hectic and often trying day and that gave John and her some time to be together.

She heard the swoosh of the door and soft steps heading towards the bed, struggling to find their way in the half-light, then the careful undoing of heavy boots showing how tired the owner of them was. It was her little game to keep him guessing as to whether she was awake and asleep, something he'd not entirely cottoned onto in all the years they'd been sharing a room. The covers slipped and she felt the familiar warmth of John's body curl up behind her, a gentle kiss planted on her neck and warm breath trickling over her shoulder causing her to involuntarily move her hips back into his. The response from him was immediate as he drew her closer to him, his hands stroking the skin down her right leg tentatively attempting to discover how awake she really was.

Cat smiled and he must have felt the imperceptible twitch because she was turned around towards him with strong arms and enveloped in a lustful hug.

'Evening, my love, and how's your day been?' he whispered then began to pepper her face and neck with sensual little kisses.

'Oh, you know, the usual,' she replied, as she allowed her hand to rove down his firm stomach, following the oh-so-tempting trail of hair. She felt him groan as her hand reached its destination and squeezed him playfully, which only earned her a further rotation and she was underneath him, his eyes dark with passion and want and something else which she couldn't quite grasp.

'Bad day?' she asked, searching his face for any clues, knowing what reply to expect.

'Oh, you know, the usual,' he smirked, then fell onto her with a passion that spoke of something he was hiding. Oh well, she'd find out sometime. For the moment, she'd enjoy its consequence!

Mona must have guessed something was up because she landed heavily on their bed before the usual wake-up call from the city. As ever, she hugged her father tightly around the neck, raining him with sweet kisses. John woke blearily from his less than restful sleep, thoughts of the day before fresh in his mind. At night, worse fears had invaded his half awake/half asleep moments and he hugged his daughter back a little more tightly this morning.

'Morning, sweetie,' he whispered, hoping not to wake Cat. 'Happy birthday, little one.'

Mona beamed back at him, and repeated back the words 'birthday me'.

'Yes, it is. Now, shall we see if we can wake mum up?' And together they fell on poor unsuspecting Cat, an attack of tickling and some pummelling from the little girl finally waking her.

'Hi family,' she groaned. 'Nice way to wake me! I can't imagine why you feel I need to get up so early this morning.' Mona looked at her with a stare that said, 'shut up, mother and stop kidding' and Cat laughed. 'I think we might just have a little present for you,' and she reached under the bed, pulling out a parcel almost as big as her daughter. She fell on the wrapping, tearing off Cat's carefully taped package in minutes and gave a squeak of delight. Inside was a miniature version of Atlantis, complete with control tower and jumper bay, with little jumpers parked inside it. John picked up the model and placed it on the floor for her and without more ado she was at it, her imagination taking her along the corridors and into the rooms. Even the school room had little tables and books. Carefully placed around the city were tiny but beautifully constructed models of the city's inhabitants and Mona zoned in one particular one that was in the jumper bay. 'Daddy' she said with glee and held up the tiny man, dark hair sticking up from its wooden head, before taking him off for a tour round her new toy. Cat inwardly thanked Halling and the Athosians for their wonderful craftsmanship. It had taken her and John ages to decide what they could possibly give Mona more exciting than the huge playground she was in every day.

John put his arm around his wife and smiled down at his daughter. These moments were precious and he was determined to make the most of them. 'At the risk of sounding mawkishly sentimental, I just have to say that I am never happier than when I'm with my two girls,' he said to Cat.

She simply smiled up at him, kissed him gently on the lips and said 'I know.'

The party was in full swing. Little Mona had sat regally at the top of the table, applauding at the end of 'Happy Birthday to you' and calmly accepting gifts from her many uncles and aunts, before demanding to be set down and running around with Torren and little Rosie McKay. John could see Cat across the other side of the room, being talked at by Rodney who, with a little drink inside him, became if possible even more pompous and loquacious. She caught his eye and smiled with resignation and he raised a hand to wave in her direction. At that moment, Mona bundled into her mother's legs, a little too excited and rather full of sugary concoctions to control herself, and Cat swept her up in her arms and swung her round, before receiving a huge hug from her daughter and a sloppy kiss. He knew that his smile had broadened with pleasure and pride, but so what?

The radio in his ear crackled to life. 'Colonel Sheppard, come in please. We have a situation. Urgent.'

Impatiently, he tapped the earpiece. 'What is it Banks? I'm a little busy here.'

'Unidentified craft, sir. Just appeared out of nowhere above the city. No warning.'

John looked across at Cat hoping to meet her eye again, but failing, then turned to one side. 'What do you mean, no warning? How is that possible? Raise the shield. Now!'

'Yes, sir.' The familiar shimmer of the city's shield glimmered outside the windows of the refectory as it unfolded its protective layer. One by one the party goers were silenced, all familiar with the routine and the possibility of attack that it engendered and John could see the various heads of department moving towards him.

Woolsey was first at his side. 'What's happening, Colonel?'

'Unidentified ship just 'appeared' out of nowhere.' Then he tapped his radio again. 'Banks, I want puddle-jumpers in the air. As many as we can spare. Last time this happened, we were invaded by renegade Asgard.'

At that moment a blinding flash, followed quickly by another, struck the floor of the room. Instinctively John grabbed for his gun, only to realise that he'd left it behind, not feeling it necessary or appropriate to be kitted out for his daughter's birthday party. 'Damn it!' he cursed. His eyes were burning, and he could just about make out a dark black shape by Cat's side. He heard her shout his name, caught the fear and panic in her voice and tried to run towards the sound, spots speckling his vision from the white light. He was aware that she was still holding Mona, heard her shout 'no' and then the black shape disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

Through his earpiece Amelia shouted, 'they're powering up, sir. What do you want to do?' At the same time he realised that Cat and Mona were nowhere to be seen. 'I...I think they took my wife and daughter. I repeat, they've taken Cat and Mona. Tell the jumpers to pursue but fire only to disable.'

Rodney was standing in shocked silence next to the empty space where Cat had been. He turned to face his friend. 'They took her, John. Oh God, I'm so sorry. It all happened so quickly. There was nothing I could do.' For a nanosecond John met his friend's eye, and the pain and recognition of what had happened was clear for Rodney to see, before he turned and ran towards the control tower. 'Status, Banks? What's happening? I'm on my way.'

'Sir! The craft has just stopped. Our jumpers have it surrounded. What do you want to do?' He could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

'Tell them to hold their positions. I'll be there in a minute.' Fast on his heels were Rodney, Ronon and Teyla, with Richard Woolsey a little way behind.

From the tower, they could just about make out the ship and the circle of puddle jumpers. Suddenly, a message came through from Lorne. 'Sir, something is happening. Some sort of energy reading from the ship. It seems to be pulsing, and glowing.'

John nodded towards McKay who pushed Banks from the nearest work station. 'On it,' he shouted.

'McKay? What is it? What's happening?'

'Oh no, this is not good, not good,' stuttered the scientist. 'Do you remember when we were stuck on board the alternative Daedelus? Well, I'm getting similar readings from this ship. I think it's about to jump to another reality.'

John looked up at the ship and back at Rodney. 'Do something, McKay. For God's sake.'

Rodney looked up at his friend, apology written all over his face. 'I'm not sure what I can do. I'll try.'

Suddenly, there was an enormous flash and a huge explosion which rocked the control tower, even from this distance the shield peppered with hot debris. Where the ship had been there was a giant fireball glowing white with heat and radiation.

'No!' John shouted, at what or whom he wasn't sure. 'Lorne, come in Lorne. What just happened? Lorne, can you hear me?'

Through the crackle of disrupted communication he heard Lorne's voice, monotone and shocked. 'It just blew up, sir. I...I'm sorry, but it's gone. It exploded. We're a little whacked up here, but I think everyone's alright.' There was a silence as the Major realised the consequences of what he was saying. 'There's nothing left of the ship, sir. Just debris.'

Silence descended on the control room. McKay continued to tap on the laptop, desperate to find some other explanation than the obvious one that presented itself. John stood in shocked stillness, starting at the dissipating fireball that had been the alien ship. Teyla moved to his right elbow and quietly place a soft hand on his arm. Paralysed by what he's seen and unable to take in the consequences, John couldn't move or tear his eyes away from the sky above the city. Eventually he turned an anguished face to Rodney.

'What just happened, McKay? Tell me? Please?'

Rodney winced at the pain in his friend's eyes. He had nothing but bad news and he couldn't bear to consider the consequences. 'Sensors show that the ship was about to transport to an alternative reality but that there was some sort of malfunction or energy spike. There's evidence of a great deal of debris and it definitely matches the sensor readings we managed to get of the ship before it exploded. It appears that there was some sort of malfunction at the moment of transport.' Rodney forced himself to look straight at John. 'It is gone, John. I...I'm so sorry.'

John paused, his expression a mix of anguish and disbelief, a range of emotions threatening to overtake him like nothing he'd felt before. Inside him a hollow opened up, a space filled with nothing but pain and suffering, of tears waiting to be shed and grief ready to be expressed. He turned to stare back at the empty space in the sky, all that was left of his wife and daughter. Suddenly, he shouted, his voice showing all he felt in one single word, 'Why?' before collapsing heavily on the step behind him, head in hands and shoulders shaking with the effort to keep himself under some semblance of control.

Richard Woolsey nodded to Ronon and Teyla, who were already at their old friend's side, unsure of what to do but ready to support him in whatever way was necessary. Gently, they guided him to his feet and ushered him from the control room.

TBC

_Please R & R. You know I appreciate it and it encourages me to continue. No quick solutions to this one, I'm afraid. We're on a long and rocky road with our John._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks as ever to my lovely reviewers. Here we go. Some angst and emotional whumpage here. _

The new recruits nervously stood in the gate room as the blue circle closed with a whoosh behind them. Janet Donaldson had prepared carefully for this moment, reading up as much as possible on the city in the short time she'd had to prepare for her new job. She didn't really know much about her predecessor or the reasons for her death and hadn't felt it necessary to pry. In any case, there had been a distinct feeling of unease whenever she'd attempted to find out what had happened: not so much a closing of ranks, more a deep sense of something lost and an unwillingness to pick at the sore. She turned round and bent over to pick up the few bags she'd brought with her, pushing back her blonde hair as it fell in front of her eyes. She had the distinct impression that she was being watched and turned round quickly, catching sight of a tall, handsome man frowning down at her from the balcony. As she turned, he seemed to take hold of some emotion and, biting his bottom lip, turned rapidly and marched out of the room.

Janet stared, puzzled, at the empty space, feeling a tap on her elbow. A small woman in a scientist's uniform said quietly, 'That's Colonel Sheppard, you know. I've heard a lot about him but he more than lives up to expectations. I wouldn't mind a piece of that!' Janet grimaced at the young woman's vulgarity before the penny dropped big time. She was replacing a Doctor Catherine Sheppard. Sister? Wife? Whichever, she began to see that she might just have been handed a poisoned chalice.

***

The shock of seeing the blonde head bent down over her bags was too much for John Sheppard. Memories flooded back of the time more than three years ago when he'd first set eyes on Cat. She'd arrived through the gate that day and had looked directly at him, wonder and amazement in her expression, but something else that had caught his attention immediately. Her blue eyes had felt as though they bored right through him, honest, determined and beautiful. And, though they hadn't exactly fallen into each other's arms at first sight, it hadn't taken him too long to realise that fate had dealt him a kind hand for a change and brought him a soul mate to share his life with. For a moment, he'd almost imagined it was she standing on the floor below before the other woman turned and he realised that she was older and considerably more well-upholstered, and he'd caught his breath, surprising himself with the tide of emotion that threatened to drown him.

In the last three months, he'd managed to suppress the more painful feelings that had initially so totally over-whelmed him he'd been unable to do his job. Once he'd got over the 'firsts', the first time he went back to their quarters, the first time he smelt her perfume on the sheets, the first time he stumbled on one of Mona's toys, the first time someone looked at him with sympathy, he'd begun to put up the barriers that made it possible to carry on, although he could hardly call it living. Years of practice, burying emotions and painful memories deep, served him well and had allowed him to get on with a day to day existence. But, right now, he badly needed to escape somewhere less public, unable to hold back the pain he was feeling. He marched down the corridor towards his office, now his quarters again, radiating the kind of body language that says 'leave me alone' and managed to open the door and hear it close behind him before he sank to the ground, back against it, his body shaking with effort as the tears flowed more freely, a volcano finally being allowed to erupt, than they had since the first days his family had been taken from him.

Rodney had watched his friend's reaction to the new archivist with dismay and recognised the almost imperceptible shudder as a sign of more powerful emotions playing out underneath the surface. In the dreadful days that followed Cat and Mona's deaths, he'd held onto a morsel of hope that they might still be alive somewhere, that there was a logical explanation for what had happened. But, nothing in his scans had shown anything other than what they had witnessed with their eyes and ears. The ship appeared to have malfunctioned somehow as it attempted to switch to the alternative reality drive, the debris they had managed to locate confirming it. He'd held onto the hope that it might have been some sort of ruse to put them off the scent, until the fragments were returned to Atlantis and their energy signatures matched to that of the ship that had pierced the shield with so much ease. What they could say with some degree of certainty, was that this was a ship so similar to the one that had abducted he and Daniel Jackson that it had to be the renegade Asgard again. John had held himself together until Rodney finally admitted defeat and then he'd had to watch his best friend crumble, the man who was always a rock for everyone else shattered into little pieces. And, he hadn't known what to do to help. So, he'd carried on trying, investigating, searching for something, if only for an explanation. He could empathise, imagining the loss of Katie and Rosie, but even after all this time and the journey he'd taken emotionally, he still had no idea how to deal with another's distress. That he left to Teyla and Ronon, both more experienced at losing loved ones, Ronon especially.

It was to the big Satedan that he went for help now. Ronon had lost so much in his life, his 'wife', his planet, most of his people, and yet still managed to stay strong. He was probably the closest emotionally and in character to Sheppard and the two men had developed a firm friendship: no they were almost like brothers. Ronon was beating up some poor unsuspecting marine, or so it seemed to Rodney, but there must have something urgent in Rodney's demeanour that made his stop and dismiss the man.

'What's up?' he growled, voice deep from exertion.

'It's Sheppard. I'm worried about him,' and he explained what he'd just witnessed and the door shutting firmly on the stiff back of his friend.

Ronon didn't pause, but threw the towel into the corner of the room and with a simple 'on it' strode purposefully from the gym. It wasn't until he'd reached Sheppard's door that he'd begun to wonder how to handle this one. Sheppard wasn't a man who liked to be seen to lose control. He was a man who preferred to keep his emotions hidden and private. And yet, Ronon knew from bitter experience that the wounds would still be raw and he had 'only' lost a wife. He couldn't begin to imagine the pain of losing a child. Pausing outside the door, he could hear the sound of pained sobbing from the other side, not wild and out of control, but clearly coming from a man desperate not to let it go in case there was no going back. Ronon knew what that felt like too. Too many times, he'd nearly lost his mind with grief, only to fight the temptation to give in to that kind of madness.

He gently knocked on the door. 'Sheppard? Can I come in?' was all he said. There was pause in the sobbing and the sound of someone moving about then the door opened to reveal a room in half light and a shadowy figure standing well away from the entrance. Ronon knew what that meant. Sheppard didn't want to be 'talked' to or questioned.

'I, um, I wondered if you were in the mood for a movie later on. I haven't seen 'Hellboy' yet and you keep promising to show it to me. Rodney and Teyla might be up for it too.' Ronon paused, giving his friend time to recover.

There was a silence and the sound of a deep breath being taken. 'Yeh. Why not. Your place or mine?'

It had been two months since the solemn little ceremony in the gate room, no coffins or other such lies at John's request. He didn't want to stare at an empty box or imagine his wife and daughter's bodies inside, he didn't really want this public show of grief at all, but others had needed it, he could see that. Once before, he'd stood at a memorial service for Cat, but that time she'd miraculously come back from the dead, rescued by the Genii doctor who was still a close friend. How he made it through the ceremony this time he didn't know, but somehow he'd stayed together, stoically putting up with the kindly meant platitudes of his colleagues. General Jack O'Neill had travelled from Earth as a sign of respect, but also because he felt a personal loss. He'd a great affection for Cat, and Colonel John Sheppard was something of a protégé, and it had grieved him deeply to see the man so clearly broken, but desperately trying to keep himself in one piece. From a more pragmatic perspective, he wanted to see for himself if Atlantis' military commander was still capable of holding on to his position and he'd stayed for a week, quietly observing. What his saw made him proud of the man: he carried out his duties in his usual effective way, if without he humour that normally accompanied much of what he did and who he was. As well, of all the people John Sheppard knew, Jack was someone who could most empathise with the pain of losing a child and though it wasn't in either man's nature to open up emotionally, somehow John had recognised and appreciated the unspoken sympathy and concern.

Now, with time passing, John Sheppard was attempting to put his life back together again. In a moment his world had changed from the best it had ever been to the very worst. Everything that mattered most to him had been snatched away in an incomprehensible instant and he was determined, at the very least, to discover what the reason was, hoping to give what had happened at least some kind of purpose. They had managed to surmise only the obvious so far, although he had a theory about what was happening, and today he was determined to discuss the next stage forward with Woolsey. He also needed to 'do' something. To that end, he was on his way to the man's office now, and he'd called by on Teyla for some moral support.

Richard Woolsey had been waiting for the sleeping dragon to wake up. In truth, he was as keen as anyone to find out who had taken Catherine and Monica Sheppard and why, but he had tactically held back, hoping that the carrot of leading an investigation might be enough to help his 2iC back to the real world. Not that John Sheppard hadn't been doing his job, but he lacked the flair, the individuality he normally brought to his command, so much part of his success, and Woolsey was concerned that in a time of major crisis he just wouldn't cut it. He looked up from his desk and nodded to the Colonel and Teyla. The man looked tired and, goodness knows he couldn't afford it, thinner and drawn too, with deep black shadows under eyes which were dull and lifeless without the usual sparkle of humour. By his side was his loyal friend and confidant, keeping a careful and surreptitious eye on his welfare.

'Good afternoon, Colonel, Teyla, what can I do for you?'

John was hesitant. The road he was about to take, he knew, would be a painful one and he just hoped Woolsey would allow it. 'Mr Woolsey. I wondered what headway has been made. I mean, about finding out who is responsible for...' here he paused, not knowing if he could say the words, 'for taking my wife and daughter.' He tried to avoid the other man's gaze, staring at a point above his head, trying to keep steady and calm.

'Well, Colonel. I'm glad that you feel you can ask.' Woolsey smiled encouragingly. 'We have been sending out feelers and trying to speak to our various contacts on the ground and a few facts are beginning to come to light.' Inwardly, he winced, hearing the mixed metaphors spew from his mouth and hoped that the other man hadn't noticed. 'The fragments from the ship and its energy signature do suggest we are dealing with a similar group of renegade Asgard to the ones we encountered before, so we've been asking around to see if we can't get any Intel on why they wanted to, er, to do what they did.' He looked again at John, but there wasn't a glimmer or flicker of emotion. 'We already know about the religious sect that believes a new prophet has arrived in The Galaxy and we can probably surmise that the rumour may have spread both about Monica's birth and her parentage. It wouldn't take much for someone with such fervour to assume that she had 'powers' of some sort, especially if any news leaked out about the little incident when you were taken and tortured by The Genii. Since The Asgard are probably looking for ways to extend their lives and stop their dilution through the cloning process, it is possible that a child with a strong Ancient gene might just be the answer to their problems. Talk on the ground suggests that they have managed to build up quite a little following, for generations, with priests and priestesses of their 'cult' on the lookout for a possible 'messiah', someone who will be directly connected to The Ancients and bring with them a vast wealth of spiritual knowledge and understanding, including the ability to ascend. Lorne and his team came across a disused temple on a planet at the edge of the galaxy and there were images of their 'gods' which looked remarkably similar to the Asgard.'

He paused, allowing what he'd said to sink in. John Sheppard was a highly intelligent man, a fact often obscured by his tendency to childish exclamations and humour. The frown that had developed showed a man trying to process the information he'd just been given. 'So, there are groups of religious nutcases out there who've been conned by those weasely creatures to do their dirty work for them and like all 'gods' they've perpetuated a lie to get people to do what they want. Once they had the information they were waiting for, they launched an attack but something went wrong as they tried to escape.'

Woolsey smiled grimly. 'Succinct, Colonel, but accurate I suspect. The question is what do we do next?' And with that, he sat down and closed his notepad, signalling that he meant 'and over to you, now'.

John spoke through gritted teeth, a man clearly in desperate need of holding onto a deeply felt anger. 'What I want to do is to find every last man, child and slanty eyed alien responsible and do to them what they've done to me. What I will do is take my team to the planet Lorne found as a starting point. McKay may be able to find something out that others have missed. And, we'll take it from there.'

'Okay, Colonel. You have a go.' John turned on his heel, grateful for the chance to get out there and do something. 'And, Teyla, may I have a quick word please?' he said, once the Colonel was out of hearing. 'I know I can rely on you to keep an eye on our friend?'

Teyla smiled sadly. 'You can, Mr Woolsey. I will try to make sure, as will Ronon and Rodney, that he does not get into any trouble.'

'I know you will.'

For some of Atlantis' residents, it was a sign of some semblance of normality when 'the' team strode purposefully down the corridors towards the gate room. The tall Satedan, dreadlocks flying as he strode, the diminutive and pretty Athosian, the plump and grumpy scientist and above all, the tall handsome figure of their military commander dressed in his usual black BDU's, boots casually tied several eyelets below their tops, had been such a familiar sight until recently that most hadn't realised what was missing until they saw them again. But, nothing was normal about the group and what they were feeling. Rodney felt good, heading back out again with his friends, off on some escapade where probably his skills would be most valued and he might, yet again, be able to claim to have saved the day, but he knew in his heart of hearts that it didn't feel right. It wouldn't until the old John Sheppard returned: his friend with the snarky sense of humour and the ability to put him down with a few choice words; the man who could find a positive in every situation and when he says 'I'm fine' it is at least possible to try and believe it; the man who has a ready smile for anyone and loves nothing more than a silly joke; the only man on the base who could even match Rodney McKay in wit and intellect. He glanced sideways at John, noticing the more hollow than usual cheeks and the extra grey hairs that had appeared in his side-burns and at the nape of his neck and sighed audibly, causing Ronon to dig him painfully in the ribs. Well, at least that was normal, he thought.

John was unprepared for what was waiting for them in the gate room. A blonde figure was struggling with a heavy bag, bent over it, trying to do up the catch. Despite himself, he caught his breath yet again, before she stood upright and turned towards him. At least ten years older than Cat, she was as far removed from her in looks as was possible, and yet the smile was warm and friendly. He gritted his teeth and walked towards her.

'Can I help you?' he asked.

'Oh, 'em, didn't Mr Woolsey tell you, Colonel? I'm so sorry. My name is Doctor Janet Donaldson and I'm the new archivist. He thought my knowledge of Ancient might come in useful on this trip.'

'No, Doctor, he did not,' was John's short reply, before he turned to Chuck and said, 'dial the gate.'

The team stood behind him, Teyla and Ronon exchanging nervous glances and wondering at Woolsey's lack of sensitivity. That the man should just not have realised the impact of replacing Cat without reference to John was awkward enough. That she should bear a distant resemblance to her was worse. And both knew that the stiff straight back of their friend was disguising a deep hurt that he was trying to conceal.

The gate on the planet was in the middle of a vast plain, dust whipped up from a sweltering wind that blew across it. John put on his aviators before turning to Rodney with the unspoken question, 'which way?', while Ronon casually rested his hand on his blaster, ready for any nasty surprises. Teyla stood next the new archivist. 'He'll be alright with you eventually,' she was trying to explain. 'His wife was killed a few months ago and you've replaced her. You also bear a passing likeness to her, which I think caught him off guard, especially your hair. Do not worry. He is a good man.'

Janet smiled gratefully at Teyla. She rather suspected from the pain in the younger woman's eyes that Catherine Sheppard's death was felt keenly by her too and for the first time she regretted her decision to take the job.

She heard a slightly whining voice and realised that McKay was speaking. 'I think it's a little north of here, about two kilometres away as the crow flies. There's definitely some kind of structure in that direction. You know, we could've brought a jumper; there's nothing out here to stop its flight and it would have taken us a lot less time. And, it's hot too. Anyone think to bring any extra water supplies?'

Ronon gave him a disdainful look which could only have meant 'suck it up' and McKay shrugged his shoulders to show his irritation, before following the disappearing back of his team leader, who had already set off towards what they hoped would be the temple that Lorne had discovered.

The heat was almost unbearable and by the time they reached the little outcrop they were all hot, sweaty and bad-tempered. The walls that were left of the edifice had crumbled into disrepair and the roof almost entirely gone. Dark creepers grew up and through them, pulling the sandy stone apart; it seemed astonishing that anything could grow in this heat, but even here nature was determined to take its land back from the human usurpers. In the middle of the 'room', for it was no more than a circle with a few piles of stones around it, there was what was left of an altar, etched deep with Ancient writings. Janet stepped towards it, only to be stopped by a strong hand on her shoulder.

'Wait, please, Doctor. Let us check it out first. No knowing what creepy crawlies or Asgard booby traps are waiting to bite us.' While there was no hint of a smile from the Colonel, she had the briefest glimpse of what he had been and could be from these words and she began to understand that his friends felt the loss of more than just those who had died. She watched as he and Ronon painstakingly checked out the altar and its surroundings, before he beckoned to her that it was safe.

'Be quick please, Doc,' he said. 'We don't want to spend longer than we have to in this heat. Take the pictures and we'll go.' Then he and Ronon took guard, facing away from the altar. McKay walked forward to assist her and to make his own diagnosis of the structure.

At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything special about the writings, but then she noticed a small indentation which appeared to give as she touched it. 'Doctor McKay. There seems to be something here. It's certainly loose and I think if I just push it.....Oh!!' The small stone disappeared into the altar, causing the top to slide open, grinding painfully as stone struggled to move against stone.

John and Ronon ran over. 'What is it? John queried, switching on the light on his gun and pointing it into the darkness.

Inside was a jumble of stone tablets, each with a series of hieroglyphs and some with Ancient writing on them. Janet shone her torch onto the stones. 'Well, unless I'm much mistaken, each of these stones seems to have some kind of location on it. At a guess, and it's only a guess right now, I'd say they tell us where there are other temples to whatever gods these people worshipped. We'll need to get them back to Atlantis to be sure. Oh, and wait.' She leant forward and picked up a little statue from the jumble.

'Well, that's familiar,' quipped Rodney. 'Looks just like Hermiod, doesn't it?'

***

Marlana's long wait for recognition had arrived. She lay flat on the ground, almost unable to look up to the spot where the silver ship had landed, magically descending in a glittering halo from the heavens. She heard a buzzing noise and in the periphery of her vision was aware of a bright flash and finally dared to look up. Walking towards her was a creature dressed in shiny black, its hard shell covered in small regular rectangular shapes, its head round and covered with the same material. On the front was a square with brightly flashing lights. And in its arms it held a tiny human girl, her shock of dark hair visible even from this distance. She was screaming and struggling against her captor with an incredible might, almost impossible it seemed that such a little thing could be so powerful. Two studded boots stopped in front of Marlana.

'Rise, priestess and receive your reward. You have been chosen to look after a precious charge, the one we have been searching for.'

As she rose, he handed her the struggling bundle. Marlana looked down and was met by the most beautiful but angriest set of emerald eyes she had ever seen. 'How long do you wish me to care for the child?' she asked.

'You will need to keep her safe for several years, until she has reached the age of reckoning. Look after her, teach her our ways and educate her as to her purpose. You will need to be both mother and teacher. We had hoped to bring her birth mother with her, but that did not prove possible. She was not as co-operative as we had wished and we had to dispose of her. We will contact you as each new season begins and one of our kind will visit you each year to check on the child's progress.'

At that the creature turned and said something she didn't understand into the air then it was taken in a flash of white light up to the ship, which left as quickly as it had arrived.

Marlana grimaced at the squirming bundle in her arms. 'Well, it is just we two, then,' she said.

TBC

_Well, I did say no easy get out this time, didn't I???_

_Please R & R. It might encourage me to write more quickly!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to my lovely reviewers. I've managed to update a little more quickly than normal with this one. When things getter better and worse for our hero._

Janet Donaldson walked along the stones and photographs lining the walls of her office. It had taken a few trips to bring back all the crumbling contents of the altar but it had been worth it. The stones were exactly what she'd originally thought and more. Certainly, she'd managed to decode a gate address from each one, and early reconnaissance suggested that they were indeed the locations of temples, though most so far had been ruins only. She'd been to the first two and had quickly decided that it wasn't practical or necessary to bring back the stones, photographs being all that she needed. There was something more that she'd begun to understand from the Ancient runes and pictures too: a story was emerging of a cult going back to the earliest days of human life in this galaxy and she was beginning to suspect that The Asgard, if that's who they were dealing with, had twisted the cult's beliefs to suit their own ends. There was a point in history, clearly signified by the first representation of their physical form on the stones, where it changed from worshipping the Ancients and believing in a prophetess with Ancient blood who would lead the human population to higher planes of existence, to a search for a child who had some sort of blood line that Janet suspected was to be used to halt the weakening of the Asgard through generations of cloning.

At first, she'd been surprised that Colonel John Sheppard had personally led every mission to the ruined temples, imagining that a busy man like him would have much more important things to do until she'd learned a little more about the nature of his loss. She'd seen an awful pain in his eyes, despite his often neutral expression otherwise, and had gleaned from the friends she had begun to make in the city that the relationship between his wife and him was a bit special. The city was a place of mourning and sadness too. Janet didn't have the Ancient gene naturally, though the gene therapy had worked on her, but even she could sense a deep melancholy that was not just in the feelings of its inhabitants but in the walls and floors of the place itself.

John stood guard at the 'entrance' to the latest temple. The planet was typical of many in the galaxy: wet, cold and overgrown. He was trying hard not to become impatient with the whole information gathering process but was painfully aware that he needed something to keep him busy and away from the terrible emotions that frequently threatened, even six months on, to tear him apart. Last night had been just one of those occasions. For some reason, he could only assume tiredness played a part, his legs had taken him automatically to their old quarters, a place he hadn't visited since the day of his family's death. Without a thought, he'd entered the rooms and raised the lights. The shock of what he saw had been enough to bring him to his knees, the buried feelings hitting him like a punch in the stomach. Images of holding Cat in his arms, making love to her on their bed, the smell still lingering of her perfume were too much for him to bear. And then, his eye had been drawn to the model of Atlantis which someone had placed on chest of drawers. Everything he'd lost in that instant six months ago hit him in one awful wave and he had crept to the bed, curling up in a foetal position, hugging Cat's pillow for some last contact with her, and sobbed like he hadn't before. Finally, he'd fallen asleep, which had been a worse mistake. In the early hours he woke up, disorientated and unsure of where he was and in his half-sleep had automatically reached across the bed to touch her skin, to reassure himself that she was still there, just as he always had. The shock of reality had numbed him this time and he'd stiffly got up and returned to his old quarters, unable to sleep anymore and tried to while away the night by playing mindless computer games.

He heard a noise behind him and the familiar tone of Rodney McKay. If one positive was coming from this, it was that Rodney was able to engage in the kind of puzzles he loved and John could see that it was doing the man good. Above everything else, John Sheppard cared about others, especially his closest friends, and he hadn't been so wrapped up his own misery not to notice the impact the tragedy had had on the others. Rodney, after all, had always had a bit of a 'thing' for Cat, despite his loving and successful marriage, and she'd proved a worthy and fun chess partner. Teyla had lost her best friend and sometimes still seemed distant when the memories stirred. As well, she'd had to cope with Torren's childlike openness and lack of tact, he frequently asking when his friend Mona and his favourite aunty would be coming home. Ronon was, as always, more difficult to read, but he had been quieter, if that were possible, since Cat's death. Maybe, John reasoned, memories of his own had been stirred.

'Well, that's it for this god-forsaken hole,' Rodney was complaining. 'If I have to go to another damp and miserable planet I think my immune system will collapse entirely. I've already had more colds in the last two months than I've had in my life.'

John glowered impatiently at his friend. He knew this was 'normal' but just wasn't in the mood for it today, and Rodney flinched a little under the severity of the stare, just enough to stop him from moaning any more. 'Have we discovered anything knew here, McKay?'

'Well, there's another bit of the 'story' I think and more images of The Asgard. And, there is a gate address which is mentioned several times. It might be worth checking out? I suggest we get the photos back to Doctor Donaldson and see what she says.'

John tried to ease the tension in his shoulders then gave the order to leave. All he needed was something, just a clue that would help him to finally understand what the events of the last six months meant and, in his role as military commander, whether there was a wider threat that they needed to be aware of. He had no serious hope any more that his wife and daughter might miraculously be returned to him.

Janet Donaldson was quick to confirm what Rodney had thought. It was the first time that the same gate address had been found several times in one of the temples and there needed to be a good reason for it. Maybe this temple was more important than the others? Maybe it was still active? And, there was something else. Not a single tablet or piece of writing mentioned The Wraith or being attacked by them. Now, that was definitely worth investigating and Woolsey had been able to justify the time and expenditure of the investigation to the I.O.A. on this basis alone. Consequently, the next morning, the whole team was ready to head out to the planet.

There was a buzz in the gate room that morning: something in the air that suggested nervousness and anticipation, even felt by Rodney McKay who wondered why they seemed to all be experiencing it. He looked over to John who was making last minute adjustments to his tack vest and, as ever, fidgeting and restless. He was rocking back and forward on his heels in the way he did when he was excited about something although Rodney suspected that he was entirely unaware of the habit. The man exuded energy standing still! No wonder he was so thin.

***

Marlana was exhausted. Her old body wasn't meant for chasing around after the fiery little would-be escape artist and she had her hands full. It would be bad enough if the child was happy and content, but the frequent outbursts of sorrow for her mother, and the night time screaming for her father, meant that the old woman had not slept properly in the last two months. She had tried to remain devout, frightened of the consequences if her belief in the rightness of what she was doing should slip, fearing the might of the strange creatures who brought the girl to her, but increasingly those throw away words from beings who she had so long revered had eaten into her consciousness. They had 'disposed' of the little girl's mother, an expression so awful in its casualness that she had begun have nightmares about what it really meant. Visions of a mother fighting to keep her daughter, being torn away from her, then slaughtered for trying to protect her child haunted her dreams, bloody images so in contrast to the angelic goodness she had assumed for her 'gods'.

Right now, the little girl had contracted some sort of virus and her streaming nose and coughing made it even less likely that she were to sleep. Marlana tried to remind herself what an honour it was to be caring for the messiah child, but it was hard when your eyes felt like a hundred needles had pierced them and your spine was so sore that sitting wasn't a possibility. She had just managed to prevent the child running out into the midday heat, when she heard the unfamiliar sound of the Ring of the Ancestors activating, something that hadn't happened for twenty years. She wondered if it was the creatures coming back to check on her, but looking out of the window she saw some very different beings. Quickly, she grasped the girl by the arm and held her tight to her, one hand across the firebrand's mouth and tried to make out who these new visitors might be.

At the front was a tall man in what looked like a leather shirt and trousers. His wild hair was knotted into bazaar snake-like appendages and he held a weapon in a way that suggested danger and strength. Behind him she could just make out a smaller figure, female she thought, with honey-coloured hair and, even from here, an air of serenity and stillness about her. To one side, and fiddling with some kind of contraption, a slightly balding and stocky man was nervously chattering, either to the others or to himself. And then she saw him: a tall man, not as tall as the first, in black clothes, holding a nasty looking weapon, alert and ready for action. A man who she could see was a warrior from his upright stance and readiness for action. But more than that, she registered with shock the dark hair that sprung at awkward angles from his head and, surprisingly from this distance, she could make out that he was extremely handsome. That hair was very familiar, and she looked down at the girl she was holding so tightly and knew. In a very short time, she would need to make some very difficult decisions.

***

John put on his aviators and looked across to the intact temple on the horizon. Well, this certainly looked more hopeful and maybe there would be someone living to ask questions of here, rather than just interrogating old stones and runes. He looked across at Rodney and raised a questioning eye-brow. 'Life signs?' he asked expectantly.

'Yes. Two, in the direction of, well over there in the temple,' replied Rodney.

John raised his small telescope in the direction of the cluster of buildings. 'Right, let's head out. And, be careful. We don't know what we're heading into and we don't need to take any risks. There are far too many windows for unknowns to hide behind and take pot shots at us from for my liking.'

It didn't take long to cross the short distance to the temple, across the barren land. Once inside the complex, it was clear that this was a construction similar to the others they had found, only much more intact. Living quarters were evident on several sides, though most were empty and falling into disrepair, but ahead there was one which looked just a little more 'lived in', a pot of herbs sitting by the stone lintel and a heavy wooden door firmly closed and intact. With a sigh of relief at not finding any more inhabitants, John beckoned the team towards this last structure and as he did, he thought he saw a movement behind the window, a glimpse of a dark shadow behind the loose blinds that protected the occupants from the ravages of the sun on this planet. He raised his left arm in the gesture that they all knew meant 'stop and assess', then to Ronon flicked his fingers to the right and to Teyla to the left, sending them around the building in a pincer movement, while he and Rodney cautiously took the direct approach. Again, he thought he saw the shadow behind the window but as yet no signs of an attack. Then, without warning the door opened and a small and quite ancient woman exited the building. She was wearing cream-coloured long robes, long grey hair swept up into an untidy knot and a set of brightly coloured beads around her neck, with an unfamiliar symbol attached. John immediately realised that they were finally face to face with one of the priestesses that had been written about on the tablets.

The woman was clearly in pain as she hobbled out to greet them, her wrinkled face etched with an age impossible to assess. John walked forward and tried to put on his 'I'm perfectly relaxed and I'm not a danger' look but there was something about the woman that made him nervous. 'Hi!' he said in as calm a voice as he could muster. 'Please don't be scared. We mean you no harm. My name is John Sheppard and this is Doctor Rodney McKay. The big man coming round the corner is Ronon Dex and this is Teyla. We are travellers and are interested in the temple.'

The look she gave him took him aback. He expected maybe fear or uncertainty. What he saw was much more. She seemed to be fighting with herself, a gamut of different emotions flitting across her face, as though trying to come to some sort of momentous decision. In a weak voice she replied, 'Welcome, travellers. I am the high priestess of this temple. You may call me Marlana.'

John looked at Rodney who handed him the life-signs detector which clearly showed another life sign, somewhere inside the building. 'Um, are you here alone?' he asked. 'I mean, I only ask because this is no place for a woman to be by herself. It must be pretty dangerous out here?'

Her face showed even more of whatever indecision was troubling her then she replied, 'Yes, I live her alone. That is the way of our sect.'

At that moment, a small sound came from the building and Ronon stood at alert. John paused. 'Well m'am, I wonder if you'd invite some weary travellers into the cool of your home. We could do with some water and food before we return to our own.' As he spoke, Ronon circled behind the old woman, noiselessly edging towards the door. Teyla had trained her stunner on the back of the woman, but was also keeping a careful eye on the window. And then, it all happened so quickly. Marlana suddenly became aware of what they were doing and tried to spin around and run back to the building, her old bones finally failing her as she fell to her knees. Ronon at the same time smashed through the wooden door and Teyla ran to the woman, gently but firmly pressing the nuzzle of the stunner to the back of her head. Then, John watched as Ronon came back out of the house, a wriggling bundle in his arms and a look of astonishment on his face, soon breaking into a broad smile as he delivered his package into John's arms.

John looked down into the emerald eyes of his daughter, aware that Rodney and Ronon were at either side of him, desperate for a longer look at the miracle child, but also ready to hold up their friend if the shock proved too much. There was a pause as she scanned his face, then she smiled a huge toothy smile and shouted 'dadda' before throwing both arms around his neck so tightly, as though she would never let him go. John made eye-contact with Teyla, tears of joy silently streaming down his face as the truth of what had happened began to sink in. He sank his face into her head and held her close, needing to take in her smell, to feel the taught little body against his, to come to terms with the knowledge that he was holding his daughter in his arms. For what could have only been minutes but felt like hours he was frozen in the same position, shock and awe immobilising him.

His daughter was alive. The ship she was in had somehow escaped: hadn't blown up. She'd been with her mother. Cat! He snapped his eyes up from his reverie and met Teyla's, a similar thought clearly showing in her own, then looked down to the old woman, now prone on the floor in some desperate attempt to gain some kind of forgiveness.

Teyla knelt next to Marlana, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. 'Marlana. When the 'creatures' delivered Mona, for that is her name, did they say anything about her mother? '

Marlana raised her head and met John's stare. She could see the hope in his eyes and feared the consequence of what she had to say. With a degree of hesitation, she repeated what her visitor had told her and watched the light in his hazel eyes go out as she did. She told him that his wife was dead. She told him that she'd be killed because she had caused too much trouble. She saw the briefest moment of pride shining as emerald as his daughter's, before he lowered his head back to the little girl, hugging her even more tightly if that was possible, his shoulders dropping with defeat.

Teyla walked over to her friend. 'John, I think we should leave. It may not be safe here and we should get Mona back to Atlantis.' He simply nodded, looked towards Ronon and Rodney with an unspoken order, then set off towards the gate. Ronon gently helped Marlana to her feet and she looked at him with uncertainty, not sure what these strangers might do to her.

'I think you'd better come with us,' was all he said, before wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her across the scorched land, and she knew that she would never to return again to the place that had been her whole life or to the beliefs that had been the sole purpose of her existence.

***

'Unscheduled off-world activation,' said Chuck before checking his screen. 'It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC sir.'

Richard Woolsey stood at the edge of the balcony, the site of so many returns to the city, both happy and tragic. He hoped that the Colonel and his team had found some answers on the planet, though rather suspected that it might be yet another set of clues. He was beginning to think that this was a mission that needed to be closed and the IOA had warned him that it should be, if no Intel about what 'weapon' kept The Wraith away from these planets was forthcoming. At first there seemed nothing extraordinary about the group who came through the gate until he heard a little voice shout with joy and saw the old woman being guided gently by the big Satedan. Unable to believe his eyes and ears, he slowly walked down the stairs to the gate room floor, eyes on the excited bundle in John Sheppard's arms.

'Colonel?' he asked. At the sound of his voice, a familiar little face with fiery eyes turned to him and smiled. 'Mona! How? Oh my God!' was all he could say at the sight.

'Yes!' replied John, before he turned to his friends and smiled weakly. 'I think I need to take Mona home.'

TBC

_Please R&R? You know I appreciate it. So John has his daughter back. Still, there are difficult times ahead. Apart from anything, how will our hero fare as a single parent?_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, as ever. This chapter attempts to fill in some of the gaps and is very much a necessary one, preparing us for the next phase of the story._

Rodney was exhausted. Since the return of Mona Sheppard four months previously, he'd worked tirelessly to try to re-calibrate the city's sensors and shield so that she would be safe from The Asgard threat. He was pretty sure he'd now succeeded. Twice before they'd managed to pierce the city's defences and he was damned if he would let it happen again, especially given the nature of the precious charge he was trying to protect. John had finally begun to feel less anxious about allowing his daughter out of his sight and she was now able to attend the nursery and play with the other children without him hovering around every corner. But there was no escaping the fact that, while the threat from the renegade Asgard still existed, she was trapped in the city, the only place where it was even possible to keep her safe. From what Marlana told them, the dangerous time for her would be on or about her third birthday, which was considered to be 'the age of reckoning', a point where the baby begins to develop into the adult they will become. Rodney didn't suppose his friend would ever be truly comfortable leaving her again, though, and away missions had been a trial for them all, John anxious and stressed until he was able to return to Atlantis. Still, at times there were now glimpses of the old Sheppard, some of the snarky humour returning that had so readily peppered his conversation before Cat's murder, for there was no disputing that was exactly what it had been. After they returned from the Marlana's temple, John instigated a Pegasus wide sweep, calling in all possible favours including what friends they had within The Genii and The Travellers fleet, which ranged far and wide, for any news or sign that his wife was alive. He knew it was pointless really, since if she had been able to she'd have surely contacted him or Atlantis by now and they had come up with a significant zero. Still, Laden and Larrin had promised to keep looking until John said otherwise, which Rodney suspected would be never.

The mystery of the explosion that had seemed to wreck the Asgard ship had also been resolved. What Rodney had missed was a shadow of an energy signature hiding behind the main one, which fleetingly appeared then blinked out just before the explosion. He had likened the illusion to a giant magic trick, the magician drawing the eye away from what was really happening and had cursed himself for his gullibility. Where they'd gone between then and finding Mona or where they were now was yet to be discovered and that was just another area of investigation which was ongoing.

As for Marlana, Woolsey had gently interrogated her and she really had been very forthcoming, although didn't really add to anything they already knew. And then, two weeks after her arrival in Atlantis, her old heart finally gave way, still wracked with guilt at her part in the separation of mother and daughter, father and mother, and she was quietly cremated, Teyla and The Athosians giving her an appropriate send-off.

Rodney glanced at the clock on his laptop. That late already? Once upon a time, Sheppard would have been standing impatiently at his back, tapping his foot, waiting for Rodney to finish so that they could watch a film, play a game of chess or a computer game or race their remote-controlled cars along the corridors. Those days were definitely over. He closed the laptop, turned off the lights and headed back home, to the warmth and comfort of his wife and daughter, wishing he didn't feel so damn guilty all the time at being so happy.

For John, life had gained some semblance of normality. The evening when he had returned with his daughter in his arms, he'd made the decision to go back to their quarters and face the absence of his soul mate. He had his daughter, a fighting, breathing firebrand of a little girl, and he saw so much of Cat in her that at least he had something of her to take with him into the future. In the last four months, she'd become increasingly independent and, though still very much daddy's girl, no longer needed to know exactly where he was, for every second of the day, which she had in the first few weeks after their return. Indeed, that need to be with him and to touch him had been good for him too. She would crawl into the large bed he used to share with Cat and cuddle up to him, comforting him in his loneliness and easing his pain. In the last few weeks, he could honestly say that he was beginning to feel more like a glass-half-full sort of guy, and less of an empty vessel.

And last night, he made another step forward. There was no doubting the female interest that had been sparked when news of Cat's death had got out. As well, new recruits arrived regularly who hadn't known her and just saw him as an available man, with something of a reputation for the women and a single parent to boot! Ronon, Rodney and Teyla had been encouraging him to dip his toe back in the dating water and he'd finally succumbed, more from the need for some female company, other than a nearly two year old, than anything else. It hadn't been entirely a disaster, though never destined to be anything other than the physical, and the sex he had to admit had been tempestuous and exciting, relieving some of his pent up tensions. He knew that he would never love again, not the way he felt about Cat, but that didn't mean to say that he had to be a recluse, did it? He had tried not to make comparisons, not to pretend she was Cat, with some limited success. And more than that, he knew that Cat wouldn't have wanted him to hide away. He could almost hear her voice telling him to get on with life.

It was time to collect Mona from the nursery. Today had been a little easier, all his work Atlantis based, though boring paperwork and staff evaluations were not why he joined the Air Force. He had a little group of baby sitters, all able to collect her, feed her, put her to bed if necessary and it really hadn't been as difficult as he'd expected, thanks to lots of generous and kind friends. He'd also expected more of a reaction from his daughter at the loss of her mother, but supposed that she was young enough to be able to shrug off such a loss. So, he was unprepared for the chaos he met in the nursery. Mona was in floods of angry tears, as were Rose McKay and Torren. From the look of both of them, they'd been in some kind of fight and from the look of Mona she'd been the instigator.

He grabbed the writhing toddler and looked enquiringly to Martha, the senior nursery nurse, then knelt down to make eye contact with the furious child. 'Sweetie. What's the matter? What's happened here? Tell dada.'

Mona pushed him away and stood tall, a determined stance that made him hold his breath, so like Cat did she look. 'Where Mama?' she shouted in his face. 'Mama alive.' It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact and its force took him aback.

He took a deep intake of breath. Well here it was. Realisation at last. 'Honey, mama's gone. She's not coming back. I'm sorry.'

Emerald eyes blazed back at him. 'No!' she screamed. 'Mama alive. Find mama.'

He looked up at Martha and then tried to gather his daughter into his arms, but still she resisted him. 'She's been like this all afternoon,' Martha sighed, 'and when Torren and Rose argued with her she started to hit out.'

'I can't find mama, Mona. She's been taken to a better place, to heaven, and I can't get her back.' Even to his ears it sounded trite and inadequate, but he couldn't think of what else to say.

With this, Mona pushed at him so hard that he toppled backwards, and put a hand on both hips, a look of calm determination and compassion mature beyond her years creeping across her childish features. 'All right, dada. Mona find mama. Mama alive.'

***

On a planet at the edge of The Galaxy two familiar shapes were busily working on some kind of machine, a mass of coloured lights and bleeping sounds. Freyr was intent on the inter-dimensional scanner, determined to locate her quarry. Once the news had come through that the child had been returned to Atlantis, she'd immediately begun the necessary calculations, another visit to the other universe now absolutely imperative. As soon as they'd learned that their kin in that universe had committed mass suicide, it had become even more imperative to find a way to prolong their own existence, and then they could begin to re-populate the other realities where a similar fate had also befallen The Asgard. It had been left to her and Tyr to work out the co-ordinates and to find a way around the blocking device that she had sensed on the scanner. Those humans were proving particularly resourceful and surprisingly intelligent, but they were no match for her kind, and she would get the child back.

She turned stiffly to Tyr. 'Have you found a way through the shield, yet? Time is running out and we must hurry if we are to find the child before she is too old.'

'I have almost managed to break the coding,' he replied.

***

If John thought that ignoring Mona would work, or that she would forget, he was very much mistaken. If anything, her demands became even more persistent. Last night, she'd stirred from her usually deep slumber and shook him firmly awake. 'Dada!' she'd said. 'Mama here,' and she'd put her hand on her head and then on his. At least that had made a kind of sense. I mean, Cat was still very much in his head and always would be, but it didn't stop him being creeped out, nor did it stop the small seed of hope that had begun to grow. He remembered the voice he'd heard, stuck in that Genii torture chamber and dying, the one which demanded he stayed alive, the one that helped Cat to bring him back. And while he couldn't remember how that voice sounded, he was certain as he could ever be that it had been his daughter, desperate not to lose a parent before she was born. And if that was the case, bazaar as it seemed, then maybe, just maybe she was sensing something that seemed equally impossible.

In the cold light of day it was easier to dismiss such fantastical thoughts and much easier to put futile hopes into the place where he put all emotions that he didn't want to deal with. He'd suffered enough over the past few months and briefly believing that Cat might still have been alive when he found Mona only to have it quickly squashed had played with his feelings to an almost unbearable extent. The only way was forward and, as a man so naturally positive, he wouldn't dwell in a nostalgia that could only eat away at him.

Today was a good day. He and the team were visiting New Athos to see Teyla's people. He was especially looking forward to seeing Halling and Jinto. Teyla had told him that the young man was in love and an engagement was on the cards. Now, that was the kind of news that could keep him positive and optimistic and was just what he needed. Mona, unfortunately, had taken this moment to kick up an almighty fuss. She did not want to go to the nursery. She did not want to leave 'dada'. Unusually, she'd said nothing as she had leapt into his bed this morning, but had clung so tightly to his neck that he'd barely been able to get up, showered and dressed in time. Eventually, and in some desperation, he'd radioed Katie McKay, who had something of a soft and calming way with his determined daughter and had, after some thirty minutes of cajoling, managed to persuade her to spend the day with her, on the promise of baking, and eating, fairy cakes and chocolate brownies, which she could then serve to dada when he got home that evening.

So, a little late and rather harassed he arrived at the gate room, the rest already there and Rodney McKay tapping his foot impatiently.

'I know, I know, late,' he said. 'I've the good graces of your lovely wife to thank for me being here at all!'

Teyla gave him a sympathetic look. 'Mona?' she queried.

'Yep!'. He shrugged his shoulders to release some of the tension and then looked up to Chuck the technician. 'Dial the gate.'

***

For once the team arrived home on time. The day had been restful and pleasant. Jinto had grown into a pleasant and charming young man and was clearly desperately in love. Halling was every inch the proud father and The Athosians were just beginning to recover from the ordeal of a few years ago at Michael's hands, with a whole new generation of little ones running around to swell the population. John might have imbibed a little too much Athosian wine, but he could swear he could hear a familiar female voice. He glanced up at the balcony, surprised not to see Richard Woolsey waiting for them in his usual position and then noticed a tall, graceful, leather-clad figure in the man's office.

'Now, what the hell's she doing here?' he thought. He also thought that Richard Woolsey looked at him from behind the glass wall of his office in a way that could only be called uncomfortably.

'Oh well, I guess I'd better jump right into the lion's den and say hello,' he complained before wearily climbing the stairs to the office. A Larrin visit usually meant trouble, and that trouble had a tendency to involve him or get him involved one way or another. And, he really wasn't in the mood for her more obvious innuendos and her going to go nowhere but can't resist teasing you sexual come-ons. It had been exciting once and then he'd met Cat and discovered what sex with a real woman could be like. No, that wasn't a road to go down. Not yet. The healing process had a long way to go before he could comfortably allow himself to remember that special part of their relationship.

John put on a superficial smile. 'Hi Larrin! To what to we owe the pleasure.' Again he thought he caught a cautious look between the two. If he wasn't so damn tired, and if he didn't need to find out how Mona was, he'd darn well ask them outright, then and there.

'Oh, just a social call, Sheppard.'

'Right,' he deadpanned. 'Well, it's good to see you and now I need to go and see my daughter.'

He was just about to turn to leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 'I was so sorry to hear about Cat. She will be greatly missed,' and surprised at the gentleness of tone he turned to meet a pair of very sympathetic eyes.

'Er, em, thanks,' he mumbled uncomfortably. 'Right, must dash. Maybe we can catch up for a drink later?'

'Sorry, Sheppard. You'll have to forgo that little pleasure. I'm not staying. Just came to say hello. I'll be in touch Woolsey.' And with that, she adjusted her heavy gun which always seemed in danger of weighing down her lightweight trousers, and strode from the office.

John raised a quizzical eyebrow in Woolsey's direction, but seeing no immediate answer was forthcoming decided that he'd fight that battle tomorrow. For tonight, Atlantis' military commander was not ready to get into an argument with Woolsey about the need to keep him informed of all security matters. What he really needed was sleep, but he was absolutely certain that sticky chocolate cakes and grey fairy cakes were on the menu first. He buzzed Katie on the radio and let her know that he was on her way. In the background, there was the sound of rampaging children and he hoped, really hoped, that it was happy noises he could hear and not a repeat of Mona's violent outburst yesterday.

He buzzed the McKay door, which opened to a very tired looking Katie. 'Hi John, come in,' she sighed wearily, then shouted to the other room, 'Mona, dada's here!' A stampede of little feet hurtled across the room towards him and flung itself into his arms, once again tightly entwining her arms around her neck. He kissed the top of his daughter's dark head and thanked Katie for looking after her, and with a slightly less enthusiastic thank you took the box of little cakes too.

'How's things been?' he asked, hesitatingly.

'Well,' Katie answered, 'it was a little difficult at first, but we've had fun today. She's been looking forward to seeing you, though, and, well, she's still saying the same things.' Unwilling to use the words in case she started Mona off again, she looked at John with hope that he understood and he nodded quietly. Oh, yes. It was going to be one of those nights, he could feel it.

It had been another rough night when John struggled up the stairs to Woolsey's office. Mona had woken him several times, repeating the same demands. He'd run out of sensible or even insensible things to say and had resorted to trying to ignore her which had only made her more determined. He wanted to find out what Larrin had called by for. It certainly hadn't been a 'social call' as she'd said: she never did anything without some sort of selfish motive and she really had left in indecent haste. What he hadn't expected was to find Teyla already there and looking as though she was heading out somewhere, already wearing a leather coat and boots. John scowled, a brooding look which was becoming unfortunately characteristic these days, and strode purposefully into the room.

''Morning,' he greeted them as lightly as he could,' so, what's the gossip?'

He caught yet another sly glance, this time he could swear that he saw Teyla nod at Woolsey, and then she turned to him. 'Good morning, Colonel. I was just informing Mr Woolsey that there is a crisis with my people and I need to return to them straight away.

'Oh, what's up? They seemed alright yesterday!' Oh yes, definitely suspicious!

'I had a message early this morning that Jinto has fallen out with his bride-to-be and Halling would very much like my support. I should not be gone for more than a day. Will that be a problem, Colonel?' Teyla stood tall and looked him directly in the eye, and yet he was still certain that there was something he was missing. Maybe there's another man on the horizon, he thought. I mean, it's been a while since Kanaan and she was only human after all.

'Okay! Have fun. And tell Jinto his Uncle John says to sort himself out or I'll come down personally and sort him out myself!'

All he got from Teyla was a small smile and he guessed he'd have to be satisfied with that for now.

***

Carla stretched her sore back and tried to unknot the muscles that had tightened yet again along the length of her spine. She supposed she should expect nothing less, given the scar tissue that was still trying to heal, but after a day's work it was almost too much to bear. Working behind the bar was better than cleaning the rooms, but it still hurt after standing all day. As each day progressed since her 'accident', she began to feel more and more as though something wasn't right, no, that something was missing, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. Dane had been very good to her, for sure, and he had even offered her more than the friendship and care he'd so willingly gifted to her, no strings attached, and she supposed she should be grateful and just accept, but there was just something holding her back. Last night, when he'd kissed her, she'd expected to feel something for the man who had virtually single-handedly saved her, but there was not the slightest spark, nothing that she could call attraction, even on a very basic level, and to give him his due, he'd realised immediately and hadn't forced the issue.

No, there was something, she just knew it. She just didn't know what. Yet.

_TBC_

_Okay, I know, lots of things happening here but nothing resolved. You'll just have to review and encourage me to write on!_

_Freyr is the Goddess of Fertility and Tyr the God of Single Combat, by the way._


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. I've been trying to update quickly, but real life keeps getting in the way. _

Pain. Sharp needles down her spine make her back arch in agony and her muscles contract so that she can barely breathe. Lights flashing, blinding her with their fierceness then the sensation of something hot trickling down her back. Life slowly seeping out of her. She feels the tears involuntarily start to flow, but something is holding them back too. Determination. Is that it? Something is stopping her from giving in, from allowing them to win. Who? Loss, she's lost something but doesn't know what. No, she's had enough. You win. A pair of emerald eyes bore into her soul. Willing her to survive, to carry on fighting. She hits out and knows she's caught something soft and alive. Then she's falling, falling, falling.....

'No!!'

A pair of emerald eyes is fixed on his willing him to wake.

John stirred from unconsciousness, dripping with sweat. Not for the first time he'd dreamt about Cat, but this time it felt so real, he'd been able to sense her pain, to suffer it with her and he'd woken in a panic to his daughter's voice and her face in his. As he opened his eyes, she flung her arms around his neck, her little body wracked with sobbing, face buried in his stubble. Finding it difficult to calm down himself, the memory of the dream so vivid, he took a deep breath and gently extracted Mona from his Adam's apple. Her face was a mess of tears and something else. An echo of suffering that a child so young should never experience.

He was vaguely aware of the gentle rosy glow emanating from the lights in his room, the city undoubtedly sensing his and Mona's distress. If Atlantis could, he swore she would reach out and stroke them. As it was, there was a gentle sound in the background, a tuneful humming, sweetly trying to calm her two children. Mona appeared to react to the city's ministrations and her sobbing slowly ceased, to be left with a look of such clarity that it took him aback.

'Mama hurt,' she said simply. 'Dada find Mama. Mama alive.'

For the first time, since the moment he'd laid eyes on his miraculously saved daughter, he felt a stirring of something which might be called hope, though that would be too strong a word, as though her constant determination that her mother was alive could indeed bring Cat back to them both. And the dream had felt so real, less like a dream and more like a vision. He remembered Teyla, all those years ago when Kanaan had appeared to her, saying something very similar, though that had turned out to be just another of Michael's sadistic games.

And against logic, reason and his better judgement he replied, 'Alright, sweetie. Dada will look for Mama. I promise,' and the pain wracked face cracked into a broad grin as she nodded her head in acknowledgement of the grown up finally coming to his senses.

***

Teyla hated lying to John, but this was too sensitive a mission for him to be involved in...yet. When Richard Woolsey called her to his office, soon after Larrin's departure, she had no idea what he was about to request of her. On a planet right at the edge of the galaxy, a planet unusually without a gate, a Traveller ship had recently landed for supplies. Larrin had circulated Cat's picture to all the fleet, and to those Travellers who lived on the ground, and this was just one of those rare settlements, although more and more they needed live on the land, their fleet becoming old and unsafe as the years progressed. Someone matching Cat's description was living and working in one of the villages, at the local inn, serving behind the bar. Teyla was sceptical. In the immediate two months after Cat's disappearance, they'd had several sightings but all had turned out to be false leads. They'd discussed the problem of whether John should be told about them, and Teyla had advised Woolsey that it might be better if she quietly investigated. She knew something about dashed hopes: in the time that followed the disappearance of her people she'd had several leads, all of which had turned out to be false, and she couldn't bear to put her friend through that kind of pain. And when John had walked into Woolsey's office the previous morning, she'd been about to leave on a recky of the planet, meeting Larrin's ship at a designated point, a planet with a gate.

So, here she was. Standing in one of those Pegasus bar rooms that could be just about anywhere in the galaxy, sawdust on the floor and the predominant smell decaying wood, smoke and the deeply engrained sweetness of years of spilt spirits. At least with Larrin she didn't look out of place although the woman towered over her, and she could easily be taken for a Traveller. There was a slight but not unattractive middle-aged man serving behind the bar, his blonde hair thinning at the front and his pale skin not entirely to her liking, suggestive of someone who spends far too much time indoors.

The man realised he was being watched and looked up rather nervously from his task of washing down the drink swilled surface of the bar. 'Now, that's interesting,' thought Teyla. 'Why is he so jumpy?' She turned to Larrin. 'Who is the man at the bar?' she asked.

'That's Dane. He's been here since we set up the colony a couple of years ago. Nice man, if a little odd. Doesn't like to go out much. Apparently he's frightened of open spaces.' The look on Larrin's face spoke of her disgust that any of her people could be so cowardly, but then, Teyla reasoned, she only had two ways of looking at men anyway. The way she looked at John Sheppard as though she'd like to jump into his trousers and kill him both at the same time, and this way, just sheer disdain at the weakness of the opposite sex. No wonder she was still so determinedly single!

There was a movement from the door that led into the space behind the bar and a shadowy figure limped in, slightly bent and giving an immediate impression of frailty. Teyla was about to turn her gaze elsewhere when she caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a very familiar profile. 'By The Ancestors,' she whispered in shock, 'Larrin, it is Cat, I am certain of it.' Wordlessly, Teyla got up and moved in as non-threatening a way as she could muster towards the bar and the figure standing uncomfortably behind it, until she was close enough for the other woman to see her. What she saw shocked her to the core. Cat, normally so curvaceous and healthy, was a mere shadow of her former self, emaciated and frail, and looking old beyond her years. Her stance suggested pain and discomfort and she was clearly unable to stand up straight with any ease. And more than that, she gave no sign of recognition, not even a glimmer that had to be hidden, and Teyla realised that she had no memory of her closest female friend.

Composing herself, she leant on the bar and tried to address the woman who she knew so well. 'Um, excuse me. Could I have a drink please? Something without alcohol preferably? What do you have?'

Slightly surprised at being addressed by such a striking stranger, Carla paused for a moment then replied, 'Well, brallfruit juice is really good. You could try some if you want?' Blue eyes met Teyla's and for the first time since she'd caught sight of her friend, she felt some hope. There was no doubting either the straightness of the look or the sparkle in the eyes and it was all Cat. Somewhere, buried in the damaged body, was her old friend. 'Thank you. I would like that very much,' and Teyla smiled an encouraging smile. Her reward was a smile back and again there was a feeling of recognition, at least on her part. Right then, she knew what she had to do. It was time to return to Atlantis and tell John that they'd found his wife. And, that was a task she was both looking forward to and dreading.

***

John strode purposefully into Richard Woolsey's office. He'd made a promise and he had to find a way to fulfil it. The smaller man looked up in surprise it not being time for their designated meeting, any lack of routine making him most uncomfortable, and exclaimed with a slightly surprised squeak which he knew he'd be embarrassed about later, 'Colonel! What can I do for you?'

John cleared his throat. 'I want permission to start searching for my wife again.' He didn't know what to expect from Woolsey, but he didn't expect the slightly shifty glance down at his papers which he was now awkwardly straightening, then Woolsey seemed to make a decision and stood up straight and firm.

'Colonel, please will you do me just one favour before I answer your request. Teyla is due back in about one hour. All I ask is that you wait for what she has to report. Please don't ask me any more now. '

'Okay,' John drawled. 'I can do that,' and he turned to leave. 'But, then you'll give me permission, yes?' and he flashed a winning smile, leaving Richard Woolsey, and not for the first time, with the uncomfortable feeling that he would do anything for that smile, despite only being interested in, what he termed, 'the fairer sex'.

The hour passed slowly for John. He didn't risk going to see Mona, not wanting to run the gamut of her demands and tirades, although she'd more happily strolled into the nursery today than any time since Cat's disappearance and had even greeted Martha with a cheery smile. He went to see Ronon, sparred a little and gained a bruise in his hip for his troubles, then trotted over to pester Rodney in his lab, earning a stream of abuse from his friend when John leant over and pushed a button on the laptop and promptly lost all the calculations Rodney had been working on that morning. Eventually, the hour was up and, curious rather than concerned, he headed back to Woolsey's office.

Teyla was already back, looking tired and worn, and with a look that he could only call nervous, if he didn't know his old friend better. He plonked himself down in one of the square chairs and crossed his rangy legs, trying to look relaxed but feeling nothing like and waited for what she had to say.

She'd had a couple of hours to think about how to approach this meeting but had at least expected a bit of breathing space before it had to happen. She had only had about five minutes with Woolsey and he'd briefed her on Sheppard's request. Maybe that would make the next few minutes a little easier.

'John. I need to tell you what I have been doing for the last few months, when you thought I was visiting my people. I am sure you thought I had another 'boyfriend'. That is not the case. I have been investigating possible sightings of Cat.' She waited for this information to sink in, watching John's brow start to pucker into its familiar frown with not a little concern. 'We agreed that we should do this without involving you so that you would not have to suffer all the raised and dashed hopes. I can assure you that we only wanted to stop you from being hurt even more.' She stopped again and looked hopefully at her friend. John stared at her for a minute, a tiny flash of emerald in his eyes the only sign that he'd felt any emotion, then simply nodded his head in acknowledgement of her kindness. He knew that Teyla, above anyone else, would never do anything underhand or sly.

She paused and made firm eye contact with him. 'Well, John, I have some news for you. Larrin reported a possible sighting on a gateless planet from where I have just returned. I believe I have found Cat.'

John leapt from the chair. 'What?'

Teyla told the story of how they had found her, how she had recognised her and then came the hard part. 'She looks very frail, John, and has clearly been injured. She needs better medical attention than I suspect she had been having. And, I am afraid that she has no memory of who she is or her life other than living on that planet. Her name is Carla and she works behind the bar of the local inn.'

John paced the room, trying desperately to ease the tumult of emotions. They'd found her. She wasn't dead. Mona was right. But she was hurt. And, worse, she couldn't remember them. Visions of what torture had been inflicted upon her stirred up his temper like a storm and he radiated hot anger as he strode back and forwards. Cat is alive. That's all that matters. All the rest they can deal with later. For now, they need to get her back to Atlantis, to be loved and looked after. He stopped in front of Teyla and caught a glimpse of something else behind her eyes, 'What?' he demanded simply, not needing to say any more for his friend to get his drift.

The soft voice she replied with he knew all too well as her 'diplomacy' voice, the one she used when dealing with truculent Pegasus natives. 'It is possible, Colonel, that there may be another person involved.' She grimaced at the emotion that flashed across his eyes. 'There is a man who has been helping her, although the information we have is that he would wish for more out of the relationship than she has yet been prepared to give. However, it was impossible to know how much she has become attached without asking her directly.'

As suddenly as he'd started to pace he stopped, the frown in place still. 'Well then, when do we leave?'

***

Rodney had experienced many tense trips in the jumper, but this was the worst. Larrin had agreed to meet them a little distance from a gate several hops from Atlantis and John clearly wasn't taking the delay well. Not that he had said anything, but they all knew when to keep quiet. He stole a look towards Ronon, who raised an eyebrow in recognition of Rodney's discomfort. And, they had to put up with Larrin and her aggressive innuendos even before they could find Cat. Even Caldwell and The Daedelus would have been preferable to 'that' woman. And now, she was an hour late for their rendezvous and that wasn't helping John's anxiety either. He risked a look at his friend again. Why was the man so difficult to read? He tried to imagine what might be going through his head then decided that wasn't such a good idea and went back to the pointless calculations he was attempting on his laptop.

To their right a flash signified a worm hole opening and within seconds a rather tatty looking Travellers' ship was spewed from the blue chasm, much like a cat spits out spoiled milk. The screen crackled to life with Larrin's familiar sardonic features. 'Sheppard. Sorry we're late. A little mechanical trouble delayed us. Come on board.'

The squat little jumper came to rest about a mile away from the village. It was early evening and the light was just beginning to dim across the planet's surface, but it was already clear that this was a place where very little happened. Without a gate, it was probable that it had rarely, if never been attacked by The Wraith but it hadn't exactly got stuck into technical development either. In the distance was the gentle glow of a small settlement, its inhabitants now doubt settling in for a warm evening beside their fires given the nip in the air. John shivered and his thoughts flew ahead to the houses in the distance. Was she there? Would she remember him? How did she look? And he also mused on the irony that she should be stuck on a planet where nights were so cold, knowing how it made her miserable and remembering the feel of her icy feet on his warm back as she tried to use him as a human hot water bottle. He pulled up the zip on his fleece and tried to ease the tension out of his shoulders.

'Okay, guys, let's head out. And remember, we don't want to excite the locals, but whatever happens we're taking Cat back with us. Clear?' He looked meaningfully at Ronon when he said this who nodded back in acknowledgement. They'd discussed tactics briefly, but mostly it was a 'play it by ear, get in get out' sort of situation and John knew that he could rely absolutely on his old buddy to do the right thing.

Carla had worked behind the bar all evening, quite a familiar routine, but there was something different about today; she couldn't put her finger on it, it just felt like something was about to happen, ever since her dream the night before. So, when the door swung open and let in the cold night air, she wasn't at all surprised to see the three strangers and their odd clothes. And with them was the small woman with the gentle eyes. They made an odd grouping: the tall man with strange locks and leather clothes, the smaller pudgy man with the narrow mouth, holding some kind of slab, and then, the.....she paused as she met his eyes across the bar. Why did she feel drawn to his eyes? They were certainly beautiful and, as he walked towards her, she could see untold emotions flash across them, and she felt she should know him, but there was nothing else about the man which was familiar. She was mesmerized by his approach, the easy casualness of his walk quite clearly, to her, hiding a man taut with tension and alertness, the light smile on his face not fooling her for one minute, although others in the bar had visibly eased as it had formed on his face. She watched as the taller man stepped to the left, not too far away from his leader, for the handsome man clearly was all of that, but also far enough to keep a wary eye on his surroundings. The little woman had moved in mirror fashion and the pudgy man was bringing up the rear. It looked like a well-rehearsed routine from a team who knew each other very well and it stirred an inexplicable feeling of pride which made absolutely no sense to her.

She felt Dane tense beside her, than place a firm hand on her arm and try to usher her away. Something made her stand her ground. The eyes held her firm, just as the emerald eyes had told her to fight and not give up in her dream. For the first time in months she felt as though she was coming home, though she had no idea why she should feel that. Even her sore back, normally so painful, was forgotten as she stood up straighter than she had since she'd woken up from her coma. They told her she'd had an accident, fallen off a cliff, but she had never felt that was right. The dreams spoke of strange men in black suits, agonising pain and those eyes and that little voice cajoling her, demanding that she survive.

The man with the dark hair stopped in front of the bar and leant forward, attempting a casual elbow lean on the filthy surface then thinking better of it, all the time maintaining the eye-contact he'd instigated at the door and the smile finally dropped to be replaced by something else. Yes, she saw it now. He was battling with a powerful emotion, his lips quivering under the strain.

Finally he spoke. 'Cat. Oh my God, it is you. Thank God. Do you know me? It's John? Don't you remember? And Ronon, Rodney and Teyla? We've come to take you back home. I've come to take you home.' He leant forward and placed a large hand in her forearm, the heat of which made her shiver with excitement.

Not really meaning to, she pulled back in shock and registered the hurt on his handsome features and something else: a look sideways and a nod. Then, all hell broke loose. She felt Dane tug at her arm again, before she heard some shots from a weapon and he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. Desperate to help her friend, her only safe haven and security since her accident, she tried to lean forward, but felt a strong hand and heard a deep resonant voice say, 'it's okay, he's not injured, just stunned. You must come with us now,' and for some reason she found herself obeying, then trying to run with the strange team. She felt the pursuers before she heard the sound of the dogs baying and she stumbled, her back reminding her once again how crippled she was. Then, big arms took her up into his and she felt like she was flying, the sound of weapon fire being shot over the head of the chasing group which fell further and further behind.

Suddenly a shape appeared in front of her and she was in a square room, no some kind of machine she thought, and then the door closed and she knew she was in the air. A gentle female voice was trying to calm her with softly spoken words, but she didn't understand their meaning. She was scared and in pain, but somehow she knew. She was safe.

_TBC_

_Hope you liked it. Please R & R. There's a lot more to come, as you can see!!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the delay in updating. RL gets in the way sometimes! Thanks to all my reviewers as always._

John tried to concentrate on flying the damn jumper. He could see her figure dimly reflected in the window, scrunched fearfully with Teyla trying to comfort her. In the space of a few minutes his wife had been returned to him; he could feel her presence in the back of the jumper and was having to grip the controls tightly to stop himself from rushing to her and taking her in his arms. Teyla had been very clear as had Jennifer. Cat didn't know him or any of them. She wasn't 'his' Cat. She was a strange woman, frail and weak from whatever those vile creatures had done to her and she had no memory of him, their life together or Mona. To treat her as though she was the Cat he knew would be a huge mistake. Not yet, anyway. But it was hard. Even after all this time, he could smell her special perfume which amazed him because he'd always assumed it was something out of a bottle. Just keep it together, John. You've got her back. The rest can come later.

What was she doing here? The kind woman called Teyla was talking soothingly to her but she couldn't take in the words. Her eyes were on the back of the head of the dark haired man. Why did he seem so familiar? She had the feeling she should know these people, but she didn't. And yet, when he'd looked into her eyes in the bar, his hazel eyes sparkling with deeply buried emerald, she'd felt such an attraction to him that allowing herself to be taken away and carried by the big man with the long hair seemed quite natural. Now, she wasn't so sure. And, she couldn't stop herself from shivering, the pain in her back only exacerbated by the little jolts that were uncontrollably shaking her body. She was vaguely aware of him speaking to some man on the screen in front of him and of a larger ship approaching, swallowing them up. Someone tried to make her move, but her legs wouldn't budge. Right here seemed like the safest place to be.

Teyla looked up at John and shook her head. Cat wouldn't move from her hiding place in the shadows of the jumper and she certainly didn't think they should make her. The two hour flight to the nearest gate would be uncomfortable here, but not impossible. And, at least they were on The Daedelus and the doctors could come and check Cat over. 'It's alright,' she said quietly. 'I will stay with you and you do not have to move anywhere.' She glanced up at John who was staring at Cat, a pained frown across his forehead. 'I will remain here with Ca...Carla.' Teyla could sense the hurt radiating from John, but she needed to focus on Cat right now. Getting her back to Atlantis, she felt, would only be the beginning.

When the message came through that Colonel Sheppard's team had successfully found and rescued Catherine Sheppard, Richard Woolsey had, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, punched the air with a loud whoop, much to the amusement of all in the gate room, before coughing awkwardly, straightening his rumpled jacket and, as casually as he could muster, strolling back to his office. There had been something indefinably 'wrong' about the city since her kidnapping. Not an empathic man, it was the practical things that he noticed. Sometimes, the lights would dim as if reflecting the mood of its inhabitants or some sort of grieving. Sometimes, things just didn't work right or quickly enough. Rodney Mckay had tried to fix Woolsey's shower on several occasions when the water had suddenly turned from its usual perfect temperature to near freezing, with no success, although he wasn't entirely sure that the good doctor wasn't the cause rather than the potential cure for that one!

Stephen Caldwell looked across at the man sitting silently at the other side of the canteen table. It was strange to reflect how he'd grown to admire the unconventional soldier. At first, he'd thought him a reckless flyboy with suicidal tendencies and a dangerous tendency to drag others into danger with him. He'd soon had to revise that impression, although he couldn't exactly claim to the two being friends. Over the years, John Sheppard had frequently demonstrated the kind of duty that went deeper than your average military man. He was loyal to a fault and would sacrifice his life for any one of his friends, but also for what he saw as being the cause for right. And Stephen Caldwell had yet to disagree long term with any of the decisions the other man had made. Time and time again, Colonel John Sheppard had saved the day, fearlessly putting himself on the line to secure the safety of others and, privately, Caldwell had thought he should have been promoted long before he had. Then he had met Catherine Adams and some had muttered that he wouldn't be able to continue his devoted service to the cause with that kind of distraction. But, again, he'd proved his detractors wrong, able to balance the needs of his job with a successful relationship and a new family. Even at the worst time, when he'd believed both his daughter and wife to be dead, after a short while he was up and running again, serving Atlantis and doing his job.

Now, somehow, there was a sad and tired and older man sitting opposite him. The irreverent spark had all but disappeared and he looked, well not to put a spin on it, beaten down. It wasn't surprising really. In the back of the little jumper sitting in the belly of The Daedelus was a woman who didn't know who she was and about whom they knew nothing of the last few months. He'd only caught a glimpse of her but she looked a shadow of her former self, thin and weak, with dark shadows under her eyes. He'd always had a bit of a thing about the beautiful Mrs Sheppard, as had half the marines under his command and he was sure most of the young men in Atlantis too and the charming thing about her was that she really didn't know what effect she had on the opposite sex. Stephen Caldwell had never been married but that didn't mean he hadn't had his fair share of heart break and even he could empathise with what Sheppard must be going through. He understood that, in some twisted way, it had been easier to deal with a loss which was certain than this strange kind of limbo. And he was worried for the man who sat opposite him now, that this might just be too much for him to cope with.

He cleared his throat and began, awkwardly, 'So, Colonel, how's Catherine doing? Have the doctors been able to look at her yet?'

John started at the sound of the other man's voice and tried to re-focus on the world around him. Her image was indelibly imprinted on his retina; her lack of recognition burned into his heart. She was both his Cat and not. He didn't know which hurt more: the sight of his beautiful wife so beaten down and frail, with the thought of what or who had brought her to that state or the familiar blue eyes that had looked so unknowing into his. And, that she was so near to him and yet so distant was unbearable. In the middle of his gloom, he'd also remembered Mona. How would their daughter react to her mother's condition? Or, maybe, just maybe the little girl might be able to heal her in some way, just as once she'd been able to save him?

He realised that he'd drifted off again, and looked back up at Caldwell. 'They're looking at her now. Hopefully, we'll know soon what physical problems she has. As for the other, I think that might take a little longer.' Here, he paused and his expression closed in again. Shaking his head in sympathy, Stephen Caldwell quietly took his leave and returned to his duties. The least he could now do was return Catherine Sheppard to Atlantis and her home where there was the best chance of her recovery.

John hovered outside the jumper, wishing that Jennifer Keller were here to look at Cat. The doctors had been what seemed like an eternity and he had to get back down here to find out what was happening. Finally, Doctor Emilio Sanchez, the little Chilean, came out, a sober expression in his face.

'Well?' John asked impatiently.

The little doctor hesitated. 'Doctor Sheppard has suffered some serious injuries, most of which are several months old. The worst is the damage to her back. There's extensive scarring from, I'm sorry to say Colonel, clear evidence of some kind of deliberate torture. It's hard to say what has caused it, but I would suggest some kind of machine. There are regular and deep puncture wounds, some older, some newer. The tissue around the wounds has healed rather more tightly than it ought, probably due to a lack of movement in the early stages of healing. If she'd had physiotherapy early on, it is likely that much of the stiffness and soreness could have been prevented.' Here he paused. He'd tried to remain business-like, but the pain on the other man's face made it increasingly difficult.

'Just tell me, Doc? Is there something you can do for her and, when you say 'the worst' what exactly else is the matter with her?' John snapped impatiently. Now, if Keller were here, she'd know better than to beat about the bush. It was just something in his make up: he needed to know all the mechanical details. Somehow, just knowing made him feel more in control.

Sanchez winced a little at John's aggression, then continued, 'Well, Colonel, there is some evidence of a significant head injury which may be the cause of her memory loss or that may be psychological. We'll need to run more tests than we can in the back of a jumper to confirm that. Her left leg has been broken and could do with re-breaking and re-setting if it's to heal properly, and her right wrist has also suffered a fracture. I hesitate to say, 'that's all', but that's all we can diagnose at the moment. There may be other hidden injuries that will only come to light with Atlantis' more sophisticated equipment. The physical injuries we can probably deal with, or at least make more bearable for her. Physiotherapy should help the back, although it's going to be hard and painful work. The leg we can manage, although it'll have to be re-broken, which could delay the work on her back. I can't speak for any psychological problems. That's something for the psychiatrists. What we can do is run a scan on her brain when she returns to Atlantis and then go from there.'

John knew better than to ask any more. Years of experience, mostly when he was injured, told him that he wouldn't get any kind of prognosis out of the man. Still, he had something real he could hang onto now; something to hope for and that was enough for the moment.

***

Atlantis was abuzz with expectation. Woolsey could swear the city itself had lit up with it. The trouble was, that little Mona had picked up on the excitement too and was currently kicking and screaming in the confines of the day nursery, the doors of which had been locked centrally to stop her escaping. What she or her mother might do if reunited too quickly was a real worry and Colonel Sheppard had been most insistent in his last report. At all costs, the two must not meet too soon and when they did, it must be in controlled conditions.

The gate opened with a whoosh of watery blue light, and the confirmation came through that it was the jumper. With a feeling of moment, which he felt needed some fine words although there was nobody there who'd care to hear them, Woolsey watched the ship return and rise up to park in the jumper bay.

Carla was terrified and excited all at the same time. Teyla had tried to explain to her about the city of Atlantis and that it was her home. That she would be safe here and that the doctors could help her. But, still she felt uneasy. There was something else they hadn't told her, she was certain of it; something to do with the dark haired man they called 'John'. And more than that, now she was in the city, she felt a certain presence in her mind, which sometimes sounded like a voice and sometimes was just a sense of something familiar. Teyla had reassured her that there would not be crowds of people staring at her; that the walk to the infirmary would be empty at John's request; that she needn't be afraid. There was also something slightly comforting about this place which was more that a feeling that they could make her better; more that she'd been here before. The woman doctor called Jennifer had checked her over thoroughly and seemed to agree with the diagnosis of the male doctor. In time, they said, she would be almost back to her 'usual' self, although she still had no idea what her usual self might be.

She was sitting up on the narrow hospital bed, propped up by carefully arranged pillows when she heard a gentle footfall heading her way and, looking up, recognised the smiling face of Teyla. But, there was something hesitant about the other woman's approach that suggested something important was about to be said. She set her chin firmly and made eye-contact with Teyla. Yes, there was certainly something coming.

With intense difficulty, John had stopped himself from following Cat to the infirmary. It just felt so wrong not being at her side, but he also had another matter to deal with urgently. If his little daughter had indeed been able to sense that her mother was alive but hurt, then she would probably be kicking up a huge fuss for poor Martha right now in the Nursery. His worst suspicions were confirmed with the racket coming from behind the firmly locked doors. Cautiously he buzzed Martha who immediately opened the door. The room looked like a tornado had hit it – and the tornado was still tearing around the room, screaming at the top of her voice. With a deep breath he strode towards the little ball of anger and, gently taking her by the shoulders, sat down on the floor in front of her. For a minute or so she resisted until she realised who was sitting in front of her, and then she flung her arms around his neck, a mass of shivering emotion.

'It's alright, sweetie,' he said as calmly and quietly as he could. 'Mama is home, but you have to listen to me.'

At this, Mona tried to push away from him. 'No! Mona see Mama now!'

John sighed. 'No sweetie, not now. You need to listen to me. Listen, Mona, it's important.' His insistence seemed to pay off and she looked at him with directness so like her mother that it made him start. 'Mama is sick. She does not remember us at the moment. She does not know who we are. She does not remember who she is. Do you understand, sweetie? We need to be patient.'

For a moment he thought that the little girl was about to kick off again, then she stilled and stood upright, appearing old beyond her years. 'Mona understands. Mama not mama. Mona will wait,' and she smiled serenely at him before leaning forward and kissing him gently on the cheek before curling up in his arms. Who was comforting who he couldn't be certain, but for the first time that day he felt that they might get through this.

Teyla took a deep breath. This was not going to be easy, but it had to be done. 'Do you remember anything about Atlantis?' she began. Cat shook her head. 'Well, Carla, I need to tell you a few things that you might find difficult to take in.' Cat simply sat up more upright and looked straight at her in such a 'Cat' way, that it was hard to believe she wasn't really sitting in front of her. 'You have been here before. Your name is Catherine Sheppard, but you like to be called Cat, and you are the city's chief archivist and this is your home. For the past three years you have been married to Colonel John Sheppard and you have a daughter called Monica who is now a year and a half old. On Mona's birthday, you and John soon decided that her knowing smile fitted that name, the city was attacked by a group we believe to be Asgard, and you and Mona were kidnapped.' Teyla paused again. As she spoke, she could see the emotions flitting across Cat's face. Confusion, disbelief, recognition perhaps? Teyla moved closer, sat on the bed and put her hand on Cat's arm. 'We saw your ship explode and for several months we believed that you had both been killed. It hit John pretty hard, as you can imagine, and then we found Mona and eventually had news of you. How and why can come later, when you feel ready to hear all the details. We don't know how you escaped or if they let you go, why, but we are just very happy to have you back.'

Nervously, Teyla watched Cat for any kind of reaction. There was a long silence before she finally spoke. 'I...I knew there was something 'familiar', I just didn't know what. It's why I came with you all. But...I just don't remember anything. I remember waking up and Dane being there. I remember my head hurting and my back being so stiff and painful that I couldn't move at first. He told me I was called Carla, but I don't remember that being me either.' Cat paused, before all the words and questions came out at once: 'I'm married? I have a daughter? Where is she? Will I ever remember? When can I see her? When can I see John? How was I found?' and she stopped for breath.

'I do not see any reason why you should not see John. I will need to ask the Doctor about whether it is a good thing for Mona to see you right now. Um...she can be a little bit...difficult at times.' At that, Teyla squeezed Cat's arm reassuringly and left the infirmary. She needed to talk to John immediately.

Cat was exhausted. She lay her head back against the soft pillows and, despite the torment of her thoughts drifted off into a light sleep. Suddenly, she felt as though she was falling and again she was in that blue room, agonising pain wracking her spine and the feeling of warm liquid seeping out of her. She opened her eyes and above her head she saw flashing lights which appeared to be looming down at her, growing closer and closer until she found it difficult to breathe. She tried to push them away, but they wouldn't move and, as they descended over her, she began to panic, desperate to catch a breath and to escape. In one last attempt to free herself, she hit out at the shadowy form and felt soft flesh give way as she did, followed by a yelp of pain and strong arms holding her down as she fought to free herself.

'Let me go! Let me go!' she screamed at the invisible force, 'I have to get back; I have to get back to Atlantis!' With a start, she woke up, and re-focussed on her surroundings, meeting a very concerned pair of hazel eyes, slightly watery from the pain of the impact from her heavy fist on his cheek.

'Cat! It's alright, sweetie! You're home, now. You're back in Atlantis. He took her up in his arms and held her tightly, forehead pressed into the nape of her neck. She took in the aroma that was so familiar and looked down on the messy head of dark hair. Well, she might not remember who she was and she might not have any knowledge about her history, but she did know that this felt right and she also knew that she would do her utmost to ensure that somehow she would find herself again. If nothing else, being in the arms of this man felt like home.

***

Tyr looked up from the panel of lights that he'd been working on. 'I believe I have found a way through the new shielding around Atlantis. It is very nearly time for us to visit the other galaxy again. '

The other figure looked up from where she had been working. 'That is good news, Tyr. Please inform the others. We must not waste any more time. Our entire race depends upon the success of this mission and we must not fail.'

_TBC_

_Phew! That was a hard one to write. Please R & R. You know how much I appreciate it._


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks as always to all my lovely reviewers. So sorry for the small delay. RL gets in the way of writing sometimes. _

It was going to be a long hard haul back to fitness, so the doctors had told her, and the sooner she started physiotherapy the better. They'd decided to leave the leg until later, wanting her back to straighten and strengthen first. She just wished she could remember how the injuries had happened. The huge blanks in her memory were frustrating to say the least. John had been on hand for her first session of physio, standing patiently in the corner of the room 'just in case' she needed his support, although she had the distinct impression that he knew that she was too independent to use him for a crutch.

And John! Well, that was the most perplexing and interesting matter of all. Right from the time he'd caught her eyes in the bar, she'd felt such a pull towards him, such an attraction, that it has almost overwhelmed her, and when she found out a little more about their relationship she hadn't been that surprised. Sexually, he was incredibly attractive. She'd been unable to tear her eyes away, scanning every inch of him, apprising the man who was her husband and, she had to say, she must have good taste! From the shaggy dark hair, down the sweep of his long nose, across his fine jaw line with the glistening smile, he was the most handsome man she'd ever met. And, he had a certain swagger as he strolled across the room that oozed sex appeal and confidence in himself. But, most of all, it was the hazel eyes with the suggestion of emerald deep within them that held her in thrall. What they told her, more clearly than anything else, was that Catherine Sheppard was deeply loved and that she needed to find her again and return her to him once more. To this end, she'd agreed to the next challenge in what would certainly be a long line of difficult challenges on her road to recovery.

John held his daughter's hand as tightly as possible. This was not going to be easy and he had no way of knowing what might happen. Given Mona's explosive character, she could quite easily have a major tantrum if Cat didn't recognise her and he'd talked enough to Cat to know that she would feel terrible if that were to happen. On the other hand, seeing Mona might just be the spark needed to bring back some of Cat's memory or be the catalyst to her eventual recovery. And there was that, unmentioned, mystery of Mona's ability to tap into her Ancient genes: even as an unborn she'd 'spoken' to him and saved him at the moment of death. It was also easy to forget that the bundle of energy at his side was not yet two years old. Sometimes, she seemed older that her two parents put together. And, the last thing he wanted to do was cause her trauma that might affect her for the rest of her life. He'd known rejection by a parent and felt the scars of it even now and he couldn't bear for his daughter to suffer like he did.

Cat was sitting by her hospital bed, the tension clear as he entered the room. He felt Mona stiffen and shrug herself free of his hand before hurtling over to her mother, jumping on her knee and flinging her arms around her neck.

'Mama!' was all the little girl could get out before she began to sob with the relief of having her mother back. Cat looked up and caught John's eye with what looked like shock at first, but it soon softened into something else as she folded her arms around the little girl and whispered, 'it's alright, sweetie, mama's back home now.' As the little girl grasped her neck again, Cat felt a strange warmth surround her from the outside, but also grow from deep within her core. A flash of an image, or more a series of images, like some ancient and flickering silent movie, sent her reeling and in every one there was John. Some were images of love-making, others of the infirmary, others were of conflict, but he was at the centre of each. It was as though the little girl were a conduit for her memories, feeding them to her through an invisible power source. She suddenly felt dizzy and began to fall backwards, taking Mona with her. Fortunately, John noticed the glazing over of her eyes and the slight shift in her centre of gravity and he rushed forward and wrapped strong arms around her. She was vaguely aware of being laid back gently on the bed, the little weight above her being quietly prized away, and her face and forehead being stroked by a loving hand.

When she woke up, alone again, the infirmary was shrouded in its nightly gloom, the green of the walls reflecting the dimmed lights with an eerie glow, but the images of her life in Atlantis were etched into her brain and, while not a complete picture, it was a start. She began to see a way through this strange numbness and non-existence. Without a doubt, there were at the very least deeply buried feelings that were beginning to resurface. It was strange. In her dreams she had glimpses of another person and another life here on Atlantis. But, in the waking world, she mostly had to rely on what she was being told. However, somewhere, deep-down, there was an understanding and a knowledge that she belonged here; that this was her life. The pictures transmitted to her as her daughter held her had begun to join up as she dreamed, filling in some of the gaps, but when she woke up she still didn't _feel_ like that person. The doctors would probably say it was a good sign and that time would heal her; that more of her memories would return. There were two constants that were keeping her from going mad: she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she loved and belonged with John Sheppard and that there was a powerful maternal bond with Mona.

Physically, recovery had been painful, for certain, but more successful. Her back was straightening nicely although the exercises were agony, and Chief Maria Johnson had been bringing her enormous platefuls of protein heavy (and very delicious) food. At first she had the distinct impression that there was another agenda with the large soldier and when she saw the way the woman looked at John she understood instantly. At once, Cat decided that this was a mission she could use to take her mind from her own problems: a partner for John's most ardent admirer became her sole focus for several days. It didn't take too long to come up with a likely candidate: Harry Burt, Atlantis' infamous barman with whom Maria spent many a happy hour mourning her failure to attract a certain Colonel John Sheppard.

As for other difficulties, well they seemed to magnify as the days passed. Where should she live? I mean, she _knew_ she was Mrs Catherine Sheppard, but knowing and remembering were very different. Living and sleeping with John just didn't feel right yet, but if she didn't then how could she rebuild her life here on Atlantis? The 'head' doctors, as John called them dismissively, had suggested she write a list of things to do every day: a routine of sorts to help her feel at home in the city and she leant down and pulled out the rather crumpled piece of paper from her bedside cabinet. Each day she was to add another thing to do and today was going to be an awkward one, but a necessary step.

Physio, John (and Mona?)

Visit Teyla for morning coffee

Walk to Rodney's lab for conversation and chess?

And today:

Archives and Janet Donaldson

She wondered if John would finally bring Mona with him this morning. Since the 'incident' it had seemed prudent to keep the little girl away for a bit but Cat was becoming impatient. More and more she was convinced that her daughter might well be the key to her recovery. Not since their first meeting had Cat recovered so many of her memories and she just knew that, despite the risk to her health, Mona would be able to help her become herself again.

Deep in reverie, she didn't hear the whoosh of the infirmary door or the quiet steps that crossed the room towards her and his voice made her jump. 'Morning! How are you feeling today?' John leant forward and kissed her tenderly on the cheek, though the smile was forced and, well yes, impersonal. Cat looked up at the man who she had married and for the first time really considered what all this must have taken out of him. From what his friends had told her, he had been a solitary man until Cat arrived in the city, resigned to a single life, resigned to not finding love. The change they'd seen in him had been remarkable and he'd never been happier. Then, it had all been snatched away from him in an instant and somehow he'd managed to carry on. Now, Mona and she were back, but he had to cope with the stranger that looked at him every day. In his shoes, she wasn't sure if she could have withstood the pressure and she wondered if the coolness she had sensed in him over the last couple of days was his way of coping with it all. At least, she hoped that was the case. If he was indeed pulling away from her, and she couldn't blame him if he did, then she really wouldn't have a place here in the city.

She forced a smile back. 'I'm feeling much stronger today. Do you want to see the new item on my 'list'? I'm going to visit my replacement today and see what my job was like before....all this.'

'That's good. Do you want me to let Janet know you're coming?' He stood stiffly some way from the bedside chair where she was sitting, as though at military ease, and she could sense his discomfort.

'That would be nice, yes.' She hesitated. 'John? Is there something wrong? I mean, I know that's a stupid question given the circumstances, but you seem very distant today?'

There was a pause and then he visibly forced himself to relax, shrugging some tension out of his shoulders before walking over towards her. She watched him anxiously, taking note of the furrowed frown which darkened his face and the almost imperceptible twitch of his lip that, how she didn't know, she recognised as uncertainty and as masking a much deeper feeling that he wished to hide. He seemed to make a decision and knelt down in front of her. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be distant. It's just that I....I don't know how to act around you. I want to hold you in my arms, tell you what you mean to me, take you home, but I'm not sure you want that. I'm just not very good at all this stuff to do with feelings.' He looked into her eyes and she could see how wounded he was right now. 'Let me know what you want me to do and I'll do it. Anything to get you back again.'

Cat looked down at her husband and realised that, even though not much made sense to her, she loved him deeply and this was the right time to show it. She cupped his chin in her hand and then lowered her lips to his, intending only a quick and affectionate peck, but something took over and she deepened the kiss. She felt him relax into her and fold his arms tentatively at first, then more firmly, around her back returning the kiss with a powerful passion and she knew that this was where she was meant to be, even though not all the memories were in place yet. For the first time since her arrival in Atlantis she felt like this woman called 'Cat'. With some effort, she pushed him gently away from her in order to make eye contact. 'I am back. I don't remember much yet, but I do know that I love you and our daughter and I want to have my old life again. Can I come home?'

John's face broke into a rare smile, a look of pure delight spreading across his handsome features. 'Shall I go and let Mona know? You've no idea how difficult it's been keeping her away from here, but after last time, the Doc felt that you needed to be stronger before another visit.'

'It won't be easy. You do know that, don't you John? I still don't remember very much and there'll be things that you know about us that I have no memory of at all. Things that might be.....well, a little bit personal.' Cat blushed at the thought. The few images that she'd had of their lovemaking were exciting and erotic.

He replied with a wicked smirk. 'Well, that'll make it all the more interesting, won't it?' and he winked a cheeky wink, before getting up off his knees. 'I'll prepare the way with the Doc and then break the good news to Mona. Expect fairy cakes and sticky chocolate biscuits! She's quite the expert these days!' He turned to leave then seeming to change his mind, leant down and kissed her again, just enough to be a promise of what was to come, leaving her breathless as he walked out of the room.

Cat smiled at his receding back. In the space of a few minutes she had gone from stranger to inhabiting at least a corner of her old self. However, there were still some more things to do, to tick off her daily list, and there was the new item on her list of visiting her old place of work. She'd read her performance reviews, her CV and the sparkling reference she'd received from General O'Neill, but as yet had very little memory of her work. Here was a way to kill two birds with one stone. She'd ask Teyla if she'd come with her, for moral support.

The walk to the gym was still a tiring one for Cat, although each day her strength was improving. Today, Teyla was showing a new recruit how not to take a small woman for granted and he was picking himself up from the floor and rubbing his bruises ruefully as Cat walked in. She smiled at her friend and Teyla took the cue, dismissing the young man with a nod and a wave. She had no problem, she said, with accompanying Cat to the Archives; Janet Donaldson was a lovely lady and had been greatly responsible for finding Mona; Cat would like her; she'd buzz Rodney and let him know that his morning game of chess would be delayed today.

Cat had yet to get used to the looks she received walking around the city. The weirdest were the cheery greetings from acquaintances. It was just as well she had an excellent memory for names and faces because she could now return the greetings with a nod of recognition and had even begun to have small conversations with those she met. (Had she known, she would have smiled, but John had on several occasions caught her distant laughter as she chatted. The sound, once so familiar in the city and one of the things he loved most about her, had at first upset him so much that he'd run away from it and away from the prying eyes that could have witnessed his tears. But more recently, her laughter had washed over him like a warm, soothing shower, comforting him instead of causing pain. )

This morning was no different, and it took her at least half an hour to reach the lower floor of the city and the Archive Department. The head bent down over a yellowing and curled manuscript was something of a shock to Cat and she could see why it had so upset John. From this angle, it could have been Cat working there. Not until the woman looked up did she see how different the new Chief of Archives was. Something like nervousness flicked across Janet's features, before she got up and purposefully walked over, smiled and held out her hand.

'Doctor Sheppard. It is an absolute pleasure to finally meet you. Please, come in and sit down.' Teyla stood back and watched as the two blonde heads made immediate friends. This was yet another step to Cat's recovery, she thought, and was quite amusing to watch given the similarity, at least from this angle.

'What are you working on?' Cat asked curiously, something familiar about the writing on the manuscript stirring her interest.

'It's one of the artefacts we recovered from the temple where we found Mona.' Janet stopped suddenly and put her hand to her mouth. 'I'm so sorry? Do you know about how Mona was found? I hope I haven't put my foot in it.'

Cat smiled reassuringly. 'It's okay. I've had the bare bones of the rescue. Don't worry. What have you found out?'

'Well, this document supports our theories about the temple and the priestesses. It would appear that the Asgard subverted a much older religion to their own ends. There is a tale here of a young child who will be the saviour of the Asgard race: a pure bred Ancient with a powerful genetic blueprint who they can somehow use to rejuvenate their gene pool. The science of how isn't here, I'm afraid. There's no mention of it being a girl in the Asgard document, but the carvings at the temples clearly mention that the child is female. It may be that, over time, the priestesses took some ownership of their faith and fashioned a messiah in their own image. What is clear is that the child needs to be younger than three years old for the process, whatever it is, to be successful.' Here Janet stopped, aware that she had gone too far, a look of abject horror on Cat's face.

'Do you mean to tell me that those monsters are still after my daughter,' Cat spoke slowly and deliberately.

'I'm so sorry. I said more that I should. Perhaps you should talk to your husband and Doctor McKay about it.'

'Damn right I should.' No way, absolutely no way, were those creatures going to get their hands on Mona again! She was about to stand up violently from her chair when she felt a soft hand press her shoulder firmly.

'Cat. This is not the time or the way to do it. We can talk to Rodney when you've calmed down. I am certain that he can reassure you. I know that he has strengthened the shields and believes that the Asgard cannot attempt another kidnapping like the last one. Stay calm. You need you strength to get better.'

Cat looked at her best friend and took a deep breath. 'You're right, Teyla. I'm sorry and I'm sorry Janet.' She smiled at Teyla and recognised immediately why she'd chosen the woman as a friend. She was wise beyond her years, the stresses and strains of leading her people in the face of constant danger from The Wraith had prepared her well for life's littler arrows. She could also see why John would have her on his team. 'I'll go and pack my stuff. I'm going home today.'

'That is wonderful news, Cat. John and Mona will be very happy.' With a wave to the new Chief Archivist, Cat headed off to the infirmary, Teyla's arm in hers, inconspicuously giving her the physical support she still needed in the guise of a friendly gesture. Despite her fears for her daughter, she had the feeling that life could only start to get better from now on. There were issues to face and she dreaded recovering the parts of her memory about her capture and torture, but she knew now that she wouldn't have to do it alone.

John had a plan. A good one. Tonight would be all about having Cat home and Mona, who was already beside herself with excitement as, as he'd said, was baking huge quantities of cakes of all sizes and colours to welcome her mother home. Maria Johnson had promised Cat's favourite meal, a traditional British roast dinner, which would be delivered early in the evening. Then, the three of them would spend some time together, just becoming comfortable in each other's company again. Tomorrow, on the other hand, would be a different matter. He didn't suppose Cat and he would have much time alone tonight and was sure that, against all their usual rules, little Mona would want to sleep close to her mother. So, that meant some serious planning on his part and he already had a few thoughts on that one; thoughts that included a very serious celebration for two on the East Pier (where else?).

Before that was the welcoming home of his wife. Tensely, he'd tidied their rooms, clearing up the chaos that Mona wreaked everywhere she went, and by the time Cat arrived it was spotless, a plate of soggy cakes piled onto a delicate china plate provided, naturally, by Maria Johnson. Mona was beside herself with excitement, jumping up and down from one leg to the other and squealing at every sound outside the door. When the door finally opened to reveal a smiling Cat, she leapt into her mother's arms and grabbed her neck tightly. John walked towards her and put an arm around both of them and for several minutes the re-united family stood, just enjoying each other's closeness, before Cat pulled away, smiled at John and said, 'Well, what about these cakes then?'

***

They were ready. The jump to another reality was keyed in and Tyr was certain he had the co-ordinates within an acceptable distance from the Atlantis where the girl messiah lived. They still had time, if they hurried, to save their people and this time, Freyr was determined , they would not fail.

_TBC_

_Well, we're heading for a conclusion soon, I promise, though not without another East Pier scene, for all the thunkers out there! Please R and R. You know how much I appreciate it._


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks, as ever, to all my lovely reviewers. This story has been hard to tell, and it's not over quite yet....._

She was wrapped in pain, bright lights shining into her face, sharp needles piercing her back. Suddenly a face, no not really a face more some ghastly vision as from a 1950's Science Fiction film, pressed itself towards her, peering through slitty eyes. She didn't know what they wanted. No, she knew they wanted nothing other than to see how much pain she could take; to test the maternal bond of the human race. Well, she'd damn well show the monsters what a human female was capable of. With one massive effort she raised her right hand and punched the face in front of her, sending it screaming backwards, delighting in the effect of hard knuckle against soft flesh. For her efforts, she was simply rewarded with more pain, so agonising that she almost passed out. There were whisperings, alien voices in a strange language. No, not so strange. She could make out a few words.

'Dangerous...destroy...child...important...execute...' She drifted in and out of consciousness, the voices coming and going, and she was aware of her bounds being untied and a slightly softer voice whispering in her ear. 'The others will kill you. They see no use for you. I can help you escape, if you let me. '

Painfully, she clambered down from the hard platform, almost doubling up with the needles that shot through her spine and followed the silvery alien as it hobbled down the long corridor. Several times she tried to speak to it, but it didn't answer. A small door opened up in the wall ahead and beyond was a tiny room with curved edges. Only when she was inside did she realise that it was some kind of spaceship.

'Strap yourself in. We are going on a small journey and we must be quick before the others find out what I am doing. They were intending to kill you. I could not let that happen. It is not our way and we must not become the thing we hate the most.' The voice was gentler than she was used to.

'I..I don't understand. Where are you taking me?'

There was a long pause while the other being manoeuvred the little ship away from its mooring. 'I am taking you to a small planet just a ring's journey from here. There are kind humans there who will help you, but no chance of rescue I am afraid. Perhaps in time your friends will find you.'

She felt panic begin to rise from the base of her ribs. 'Please...my daughter...you have to take me back...I must save my daughter.'

The creature made a sound which could only be described as one of great sadness. 'I am afraid that is not possible. Already the others will realise that I have taken the ship and will have surmised that I have you with me. If we return now, then we are both dead. This is the only chance you have to survive.'

Suddenly, the little ship was wracked with a violent shuddering. 'They have found us,' the creature said flatly. 'I must make it to the ring.'

Tossing and quivering, the capsule zigzagged towards the open blue ring, just making it through as another blast hit its rear. It emerged the other side, then the inertial dampeners failed and she was thrown violently to the front, almost crushing the delicate alien as she did. In the viewfinder, the planet below became frighteningly larger and she could feel the heat begin to build around the vessel.

'You...you must get into the escape pod. Now, before we burn up. I will keep the ship steady for as long as possible.'

She was about to argue but something about the creature's tone and attitude made her move and shuffle inside the tiny pod. Just before she did, she turned to her rescuer. 'What is your name? Please, so I know who to thank for saving me?'

'My name is Nekhbet. Some know me as the mother of all goddesses; others as the mother to all women. Your strength in defeat and your determination have impressed me, human. You must survive.'

The door snapped shut and she was aware of a downward momentum, the escape pod being buffeted in the gases that surrounded the planet below. Suddenly, there was a thunderous bang and a splintering, followed by an almighty impact and the lights went out.

'No!!' she screamed.

Light; a voice soothing her; the gentle touch of a hand and something warm clasped around her neck. She hadn't escaped. Had she escaped? A little voice shouting: 'Mama; Mama!'. Her eyes snapped open to find another pair of anxious, watery and very green eyes staring back.

'Oh my God, Mona, you're safe.' Cat hugged her daughter for all her might, comforting back where the little one had attempted to soothe her nightmare. But it was more than a nightmare; this time the memory stayed with her and the torture that she'd undergone had been almost as real in her dreams as it had been on board The Asgard ship. She looked across at where John had been sleeping. Last night they'd fallen into a peaceful sleep, the three of them cuddled in the bed, just taking comfort from the closeness and the relief of being back together. All of them were still dressed in their day clothes and he certainly looked a little worse for wear, his hair sticking up at ridiculous and impossible angles and dark stubble creeping up his jaw-line. The look on his face was worry and pleasure in equal parts, clearly delighted to have her back but also distressed at what she might have been going through, and there was some hesitation in his voice when he spoke.

'Are you alright? Should I call Jennifer?'

She tried to smile reassuringly. 'I'm fine. I just had a bad dream, that's all. Nothing more. Don't worry.'

He still didn't look convinced and the brow furrowed more deeply when Mona blurted out, 'Mama remembers hurt, Dada. Mona feel it. Mama need Dada.' From the mouth of his daughter came the simple words that meant so much to both parties. Yes, indeed, Cat needed John, just as much as he surely needed her to remember and to be herself again.

'Yes sweetie! And now, we need to get you washed and I'm going to ask Aunty Teyla if she can take you to have some breakfast so that Dada and Mama can have a little talk.' He firmly expected the little firebrand to have one of her stormy tantrums, but she simply nodded knowingly and, kissing her mother sweetly on the cheek, hopped off the bed and ran to her room to gather the clothes she wanted to wear that day. Cat raised an eyebrow at John. More than just the memories of her torture had come back to her last night as she slept, although not everything yet, and she couldn't recall the little girl being able to dress herself before. She guessed this was something she'd have to get used to. Six months is a long time in a child's development and she would have learned new skills and no doubt bad habits, in that time. A flash of anger burst into her consciousness, the loss of so much of her daughter's growing up stolen from her by those bastards for a moment too much to bear, then she gained control again, unwilling to disturb the moment of togetherness with John: they had not broken eye contact since Mona left the room, he anxiously trying to gauge what and how much she'd remembered.

Mona bounced back in with an interesting mish-mash of ill-matching clothes, which she was clearly delighted with, buttons almost done up on her favourite green cardigan, though not quite in the right order, a huge smile on her face and hands on hips. 'Dada call Tant Teyla?'

John smiled ruefully and tore his gaze away from Cat. 'Doing it now, little miss bossy boots,' he smiled.

It took a tantalizing twenty minutes for Teyla to arrive and collect Mona, in which time the little one's temper had begun to build again. John wondered what Teyla would be able to do with her but, as usual, her soothing and diplomatic tones won the day and Mona meekly took the proffered hand and allowed herself to be led away to breakfast, without so much as a backward wave. He imagined that Cat had been very similar as a child, still now so able to walk away, back upright and sure, from difficult situations.

Finally alone, he turned anxiously to Cat. It was the first time they'd been properly alone together since her return and it felt like getting to know her all over again. In a weird kind of way it was kind of exciting, though he quickly pushed such distracting thoughts to the back of his mind. She looked so vulnerable, sitting scrunched up on their bed, her arms hugging her knees protectively and for the first time he allowed himself to do what he probably should have days ago, taking her in his arms and hugging her close to his chest. Against him he could feel the quivering of her body as she allowed her emotions freedom and he waited; waited for the moment when she would tell him what had happened to her. For, beyond a doubt, that was what her night-time terrors had been about. Mona knew it and so did he. In his own dreams, he'd had flashes of pain and fear, mixed with anger and a great sadness.

Cat finally allowed herself to cry. The feel of John's arms around her and the closeness of him somehow gave her permission to let it all out. After several minutes, she raised her head from his, now rather damp, shirt and looked up into his eyes. The smile that greeted her went much deeper than the surface glimmer she saw, into the depths of his heart, and she saw there everything she needed and wanted. In the next hour she told him everything she remembered: her memories of capture and torture; her feelings when Mona was taken away from her; her sense of loss; how she'd been helped to escape. There was a huge blank until she woke up, a stranger to herself, far, far away from home and crippled with pain. Whether she'd forgotten who she was to preserve herself from the awful memories, or whether the head injury had been the cause, in the end it didn't matter. There were big gaps left, but she now knew who she was and that she was meant to be right here with him.

As she related her story, John's own emotions and resolve were severely tested. What he wanted to do, more than anything, was to take it out violently on the monsters who had taken his wife and daughter. Maturity and years of experience dealing with danger in the Pegasus Galaxy tempered his rashness, though, in a way that he couldn't have been able to ten years previously. Instead, he did what he knew best. He gathered his wife towards him more tightly, leant forward and kissed her tenderly at first, responding to the need in her as she deepened the kiss and pressed her body against his. Months of separation meant that their first time would be passionate and quick, and probably less gentle than he would have wanted, but he was beyond reason before he even knew it. She smelt so familiar, tasted so sweet, her skin soft against his, that he needed her more than he'd ever needed her before. For a brief moment he contemplated holding back until he felt a hand push up his cotton shirt and move upwards from his stomach to his chest, caressing him with large circular movements as though needing to be reassured that he was really there. That was enough for him and he pulled Cat's soft t-shirt off in one swift movement, revealing her soft full breasts loose beneath. He heard her whisper breathlessly, 'Make love to me, John, now'. Briefly, he allowed himself to utter a cheeky, 'Yes m'am,' before he fell on her yet again. Between them, amid a flurry of zips and buttons they managed to undress and they melted into each other, passionately indeed, but with a need and a loving want born of months of heart break and trauma, needing their lovemaking to heal the wounds. Afterwards, Cat fell into a restful sleep, leaning into her husband's chest and, for the first time the dreams didn't come to haunt her. He too slept eventually, but not before he was sure that she was deeply and peacefully asleep, the familiar gentle wheezing that he often teased her with reassuring him that she was really home. Before his eyes closed too, he swore that nothing and nobody would ever take her away from him again.

Cat woke to the rise and fall of John's chest against her left ear. For a very brief moment, she felt the familiar rise of panic, but the feel of his warmth against her soon dispelled it. She raised herself carefully so that she could have a better view of her husband. In sleep, he somehow managed to look even more youthful, almost boyish, stretched out naked beside her as though he had not a care in the world. She knew (yes!! She knew!) he would wake at the sound or sense of real danger and remembered other times (yes – remembered!) when he'd allowed himself to be watched and appraised by her, while really awake and thoroughly enjoying her voyeurism. She leant forward and kissed his neck, just beneath his Adams Apple, in a place which she knew to be particularly sensitive and her suspicions were confirmed when she found herself pinned underneath a beaming John Sheppard.

'How long do we have? I mean, before Teyla brings Mona back?'

The hazel eyes, darkened with love and lust, replied first, before he said, 'They can wait,' and this time, he took his time, enjoying every part of the body which he thought he'd lost forever, at first drinking in her presence as though it were the last drop of water on the planet, before she showed him how she would always be there for him. They lost themselves in each other yet again and had no idea how time had passed until his radio tentatively buzzed from the bedside table. With a last, longing kiss, he leant over with a sigh and picked it up.

Rodney was puzzled. The blip on the sensors had only been there for a second or two, like some kind of shadow or echo, but then it had blinked out as quickly as it had appeared. He had rewound several times and each time the almost imperceptible blue dot was there on the screen. Years ago he would have dismissed it as a technical hitch, but his experience in The Pegasus Galaxy told him otherwise: that the seemingly impossible usually happened and that it was unwise to ignore what seemed to be the least important. With a sudden leap of recognition, he compared the read out with the saved recording of the sensor readings made at the time of Cat and Mona's kidnap and what he saw made him reach for his radio.

Rodney's whining tones were the last thing John wanted to hear at that moment, but there was something in his friend's voice that made him take notice. 'You need to come to my Science lab straight away, John. There's something you should see.'

'What, now Rodney?' John turned regretfully to look at Cat.

'Yes, Colonel, otherwise why would I have used the words 'straight away'?

As ever the tone was sarcastic, but John knew better than to take it personally. With a sigh, he swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and said,' this had better not be one of your 'it's urgent that I see what this Ancient device can do' moments Mckay.'

Cat could hear the distant whirr of Rodney's tirade radiating from John's ear piece and smiled ruefully. She remembered other moments when John had been forced to leave their bed and this was clearly urgent, and probably dangerous. He got up and walked across to the drawer where he kept his BDU's. How could she have forgotten this? His muscled shoulders and slender waist showed a man who had spent years being active, not the artificial definition of a here-today-gone-tomorrow body-builder or New Year's resolution gym member. And she remembered too why she loved the long neck, with the little 'v' of hair at the back, pointing the eyes back downwards again. She could tell his reluctance to leave her just from the set of his back as he struggled to dress.

John turned to her. 'I'll be back soon. Just one of Rodney's little panics, I expect, but if I don't pacify him he'll keep in going on, and on and on...' With a smile, he walked back to the bed and leant down towards her, planting one last passionate kiss on her lips. 'I won't be long. Teyla will be back with Mona soon and it'll give you a chance to spend some time together. There'll be other opportunities for us to be alone, I promise. In fact, I have a very good plan which I am not at liberty to reveal just now. Let's just say, it should stir some old memories!' He grinned a school boy grin, leant down again, pecked her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, 'I love you, Mrs Sheppard', before her turned and strode purposefully out of the room. Before the door slid too, she heard him say, 'Alright, Mckay, I'm on my way. Don't panic. The cavalry's coming!'

Rodney had been busy while waiting for John. He wanted to be absolutely certain before his friend arrived and he'd also found time to call Woolsey. The man shared his anxiety and was on his way to the lab as well. Busy with the readings, he once again failed to hear John coming into the room and jumped as a voice piped up behind his right shoulder, 'Now, what's so important Mckay. I hope you know you've interrupted the perfect reunion between a man and his wife.'

Mckay took a deep breath: there was no point in beating around the bush. 'About an hour ago I spotted an odd sensor reading. I didn't think anything of it at first, until I realised that I'd seen something like it before: in fact, twice before. We have a problem, Colonel. ' Before he could finish, Richard Woolsey bustled anxiously into the lab, clearly sweaty and out of breath and his bald head glistening with the effort, having run most of the way from his office, spurred on by the urgency of Rodney's tone.

'McKay!' John groaned. Why couldn't Rodney ever just spit it out?

'Okay, okay! I think it's The Asgard again.' Mckay looked nervously at John, the anxious frown telling him everything. 'I think we're okay, I've boosted the city's shields, but we need to be careful. If they're here, then they must think they can get to us.'

'But, if they can't get to us, then why are they here?' Woolsey was worried. The last thing he needed right now was another incursion from the renegade Asgard. His performance review was coming up and he didn't want to have to explain two invasions or, God forbid, two kidnappings in the space of a year. And much more importantly, he certainly didn't want his military commander to go through another spell of agonising grief: he valued him too much for that, both as a friend and colleague. Plus, there was no way he was prepared to let little Mona be spirited away from under their noses again. 'Right, Doctor. I want you in the gate room supervising the sensors and you need to let me know about the slightest abnormality or suspicion. Colonel? I know you want to be back with Catherine and Mona, but right now I need you to do your job. What can we do to ensure maximum protection for Atlantis?'

John tried to focus. Fear of losing Cat and Mona again had seeped into every pore of his body and the resulting adrenalin rush had left him shaking and unsteady on his feet. If The Asgard found a way through, he just didn't know what he could to protect them and he wasn't used to feeling so useless. No, he had to do something. There was no way he would let it happen again. Standing straight, he attempted to unknot the tension in his shoulders and steady his voice. 'I'll order the jumpers into the air as a precaution. They can take up guard around the shield, just in case. If we have a team of marines on each floor, preferably near a transporter, then we should be able to mobilise fairly quickly though it means we'll be spread pretty thin. I'll get onto Lorne immediately and supervise the launch of the jumpers myself. I suggest that there is a tight guard around the gate room too, and extra guards at the door to my quarters. Leave that to me. I'll speak to Cat.'

At that, he ran from the lab, not seeing the anxious glance between the other two men behind his back and tried to focus on what he knew how to do best: the military defence of his home and his family.

Cat sat with Mona on her knee, the little girl reading her favourite book. Mona loved anything which involved a challenge or 'finding something' and 'Where's Wally?' was her absolute favourite, even though she knew where Wally was off by heart. Once again, Cat felt a tug at her heart as she realised how much of her daughter's growing she'd missed. Before they'd been captured, pictures from fairy tales were about the limit of Mona's pleasure, but it was clear that she was a very intelligent and lively little girl, eager and hungry to learn. She felt her eyes growing heavy with weariness and guessed that the day had taken more out of her than she'd realised. In her arms, the little bundle of energy had also worn herself down, and her eyelashes were fluttering despite her best efforts to stay awake. Cat felt the warmth of Mona's sleepiness and took in her familiar soapy smell, which only served to lull her further into stupor.

Suddenly, she heard an explosion, the force of which caused the door to shudder and the air in the room to shimmer with its force. There was the sound of machine gun fire, further away, then closer, and the desperate shouting of men's voices in the heat of battle. Her radio buzzed on the bed side table and she reached over to it but, before she could grasp it, the metal door glowed red, then white, before shattering into pieces. As the dust and flame settled, she could just make out a familiar shape in the doorway.

'No!' she screamed. 'You will not take my daughter again.'

It had all happened so quickly. One minute there was nothing on the sensor and the next the shield had been penetrated and there was the sound of machine fire echoing around the corridors of the city, the defence force desperate to stop, but hopeless in the attempt, the two figures who marched purposefully towards their quarry, personal shields glimmering blue but sparking red as the bullets bounced uselessly from them. John heard Rodney's urgent shout over his radio and immediately mobilised his forces, while at the same time running as fast as he could towards Cat and Mona, panic forcing his legs forwards and adrenalin spurring him on. He tried to raise Cat on the radio as he ran but was met by nothing but silence. As he turned the corner, smoke and fumes choking the corridor and several men either dead or injured on the floor, he saw the two armoured figures standing in the shattered doorway of his quarters. From the other side he heard Cat shout, there was a deafening sound which threw him off his feet, and he was hurled against the nearest wall. Then all was blackness.

_TBC_

_Please R and R. You know how much I appreciate your reviews. And, if you want that East Pier scene, well.......!!!!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you to all my lovely reviewers. We're heading down the home straight and The East Pier calls. This is the penultimate chapter._

Black smoke billowed up to the ceiling and burst along the corridor leaving scorch marks in its wake like some fire-born tsunami. It was fortunate for those nearest that they were either knocked back against the walls by the blast or already insensate, though some of the wounds Jennifer Keller had to deal with later were second degree burns caused by a glancing blow from the fire. As John came to, he was at first only aware of the acrid smell of charred and scorched city and something else which smelt rather disgustingly like burnt Sunday roast, quickly followed by the sensation of small pinpricks against his skin as tiny pieces of debris and ash, and goodness knows what other disgusting remains which he didn't care to think about, threatened to burn hundreds of holes in his BDU's. He felt a warm rivulet touch his left cheek as it bled from a wound that he couldn't yet feel, but knew from past experience that once the adrenalin had ebbed would hurt like hell, and his vision was blurry from being thrust head first against the wall but also from the greeny hue that coloured the smoky corridor.

In the first seconds of awareness he'd almost forgotten where he was or what was happening, then a powerful nausea overcame him as he remembered who had been on the other side of that door. The last thing he'd seen was Cat and Mona pressed back on the bed and the two armoured Asgard standing in the doorway aiming their weapons. Of the creatures, there was nothing to be seen except for some blackened remains and a person shaped mark against the wall opposite the door where one of them must have hit with a force that disintegrated the armour and probably the being inside. Bits of black and red metal were scattered along the corridor, some buried in the walls piercing the city like daggers cut through flesh, but it seemed that the humans in the corridor had come off lightly.

He rose stiffly and staggered towards the shattered entrance, desperate to see what was beyond but wanting to run in the other direction as far away as possible from the scene which he expected. Nobody could have survived the explosion, he was sure of it, and yet the epicentre and force seemed to be in the doorway and outwards. Tentatively, he stood at the threshold, debris still raining down on him, dropping like hailstones and covering the floor around him. As the air cleared a little, he could just make out two shapes on the bed opposite the door, so sickeningly still that he almost threw up at the sight, until he thought he saw the barest of movements and there was a very small sound as of a child whimpering. With dread he steeled himself and walked slowly towards the bed. The shape coalesced into something more human and he saw the familiar outline of Cat, hand outstretched with her palm facing him, frozen in the moment. A smaller form sat on her lap, arm towards him, replicating the action of her mother precisely.

Cat looked into her husband's eyes, the shock clear to see in them as she tried to grasp just what had happened, vaguely aware of the chaos around her and the smoke and smells that were coming from the corridor. One minute, the door had opened and those familiar and terrifying forms had stood there demanding that she hand over Mona: the next, she was aware of a surge of something which felt like electricity rise from inside her and erupt from her mouth in a shout of anger. She felt Mona stiffen too and somehow the shout was more that the combined force they could muster. She felt her daughter, not in a superficial way, but deep inside her, willing her to fight, pressing them together in one last ditch stand and, as one, they had raised their right arms, forcing stubborn refusal from their cores to the tips of their fingers where it was expelled with such volcanic might that it had literally blown the two Asgard apart. Her whole body ached with the effort and she was aware of Mona shaking on her knee. With sudden recognition, she lowered her arm and turned to Mona, gently encouraging her to lower hers too and wrapped a protective arm around her. Then, she turned back to John and held up her other, desperate for some comfort herself.

He needed no more invitation and crossed the remaining divide between them in two strides, taking both his girls in his arms and wrapping them up protectively. 'It's alright, baby. Everything's alright. They're gone. Nobody can hurt you or Mona again,' and nobody watching the scene could ever doubt the strength and fortitude of the family, so united in a determination to survive.

Ronon and Teyla looked on from the door and smiled at each other. At last, maybe, there could be some peace for The Sheppards. Just then, Ronon became aware of a buzzing in his ear and the desperate tones of McKay demanding if everyone was alright. He knew darn well that by 'everyone' Rodney McKay meant the entirety of his extended family, starting with his closest friends, but also the 'grunts' as he liked to call the marines who were so willing to protect the base with their lives, some of which he might even deign to call acquaintances. 'Everyone is fine, McKay. Sheppard, Cat and Mona are all safe and The Asgard have been destroyed.' There was so much more that could have been said, but that wouldn't come from Ronon, never a man to use three words when one would do.

'That's good, that's good,' responded Rodney, unable to disguise a slight hitch in his voice. More than anyone, he'd worked tirelessly to try and ensure that Mona, Cat and The City were all safe from attack, and he had failed, but that didn't matter with the news that all were safe. In time, his ego would react to the severe denting it had suffered and he would become grumpy and uncommunicative for several days, but for now Rodney Mckay, sceptic and cynic, was simply relieved. 'Tell Sheppard...no wait...' and his voice tailed off.

'McKay, Mckay, what is it? Answer me. Mckay!!' Ronon cursed the man under his breath. That was so typical. In the distance, he heard another explosion, but this time it appeared to be outside the city. 'What the hell?' he shouted. 'Mckay!!!!'

The voice returned, implacable and sardonic as ever. 'Tell Sheppard that The Asgard ship just exploded. Clearly, they had no intention of letting us find out more about their technology. I would say that that is that, wouldn't you?'

Ronon looked towards the family, then smiled at Teyla. 'Yes, it would seem so.'

***

They were back in the infirmary, yet again, but at least this time it was for a check-over and not for a more permanent stay. Jennifer Keller tried to keep her most stubborn and recalcitrant patient in overnight for observation, but there was no way John would spend another minute there than he had too. Cat and Mona had escaped with minor cuts and abrasions, though the shock of what had happened and the realisation of what they had done would take longer to heal. Apart from the few marines who had been caught in the cross-fire and some relatively minor burns, nobody else had been seriously injured. Of the Asgard there was nothing left to find, their bodies shattered when the armoured suits exploded and, despite everything, Cat couldn't help but sympathise with their plight. To have gone through what they had, with all the years of searching, only to fail to save themselves and their people would have been tragic had they not tried to take away all the things that were most valuable and precious to her.

Rodney had shut himself away, desperate to make some amends for what he saw as a serious failure on his part and to soothe the savage attack on his ego, and had now fully analysed all the readings. The familiar signal on the sensors indeed matched similar readings they'd had in the past of ships or signals breaking through from another dimension and, putting all the evidence together and with the help of Janet Donaldson, they had worked out the chain of events: another Asgard in another universe desperately trying to save themselves from the inevitable degradation caused by centuries of cloning somehow latched onto the strange sect of women and twisted the prophecy. How they'd found out about the new group of humans in Atlantis was also mere conjecture. Maybe, in another universe, a girl child had already been born with a powerful Ancient gene, one who they could utilise to strengthen their own gene-pool and preserve their existence? Maybe, somewhere else, another group of desperate Asgard had succeeded, but only from immature cells, those of a young child? Possibly, the child needed to be so far behind puberty in order for the process to succeed? Rodney doubted they would ever really find out and really didn't want to either. As far as he was concerned, the less Asgard there were around, no matter what damn universe they belonged to, the better and he never wanted to meet any of them again.

For Cat, life had begun to settle down just a bit. For the first few days, the family were all but inseparable, fearful of losing sight of each other, but life was easing back to some kind of regularity. The previous night, Mona had moved back to her own bed leaving Cat and John to enjoy their own bed and their own company for the first time and this morning, one of those brilliant Atlantis mornings when the suns shone through the window, illuminating the walls with a brilliant verdure, they had made love as though nothing had happened: not the desperate love-making of their first coupling after her return, but the passionate ordinariness of sex in the morning with a much loved partner. As she relaxed back into his arms, enjoying the salty smell of sex and sweat, she allowed herself a contented smile. She would enjoy this moment for as long as she could. In a couple of days he was back on duty and early mornings and late night absences would become the order of the day again. And, she had a feeling too that he was planning something. John wasn't very good at hiding things and, like many men, found it painfully difficult to keep secrets, especially when it came to organising things, which was usually her province.

He stirred and she felt his flesh under her hand, warm stomach twitching under the coolness, and she turned and kissed him on his throat. She heard him sigh and begin to shift towards her and she was aware of hot breath on her lips.

Just then, the door burst open and an excited bundle of energy leapt on them, hugging them tightly in turn, shouting something about playing, breakfast and Uncle Zelenka. Today was the day that Radek had promised to show Mona, Rose and Torren some 'special' scientific tricks and she was very excited. With a sigh, Cat pecked John affectionately on the cheek and took the little girl up in her arms, but not before he'd been able to whisper something under his breath.

'7:30 tonight. On the East Pier. Don't be late!' Then he smirked and prizing Mona gently from Cat, took the little one off for her morning wash. Cat smiled. He'd become quite the 'new man' in her absence and looking after Mona's needs had clearly become habitual. And, it was about time that they visited their favourite place again! She just wondered what John had planned.

Cat spent the day in anticipation, desperately trying not to pry or spy on John. Lunch in the canteen was fairly routine and took her mind of the evening. She still had her little pet project to work on and seeing the large Chief of staff in the kitchens reminded her. It would also give her the opportunity to visit Harry Burke again. She was genuinely fond of him, he'd been a sympathetic ear and a kindly voice on many occasions, especially those when John was late back from a mission or, even worse, missing, and she knew that he had a soft spot for her. She was also curious about the new cocktail that he'd been rumoured to have invented in her and Mona's honour: something about magic and girl-power she'd heard. With a nod and a thank you for another huge lunch to Maria Johnson who was still trying to 'feed you up: you're all skin and bone' she pushed back her chair and headed to the bar.

The balding barman was busy behind his bar as ever. Cat wondered if he ever moved from the spot. In fact, she had never been there when he wasn't working and she'd never seen him anywhere else, except for the odd open air event on one of the piers when his bar was simply relocated, complete with his presence.

Harry looked up and smiled. He'd really missed the lovely Mrs Sheppard and her pretty smile. 'Afternoon ma'am,' he said in mock salute. 'All hail the Queen of Atlantis.'

'Hi, Harry. It's nice to see you too, and less of that kind of talk, eh?'

Harry just put on a mock expression of childish regret and then his face burst into a broad grin. 'Well, I bet I know what you're here for. You've heard a little rumour about my latest 'creation' and you want to find out more about it. Well, Mrs Sheppard, no go on that one, I'm afraid. You'll just have to wait. And, I'm not allowed to say any more, so don't try getting round me, and looking at me like that will not do the job either.'

Cat smiled. Oh well, that resolved one little question. The cocktail was clearly on the menu tonight, whatever 'tonight' was to be. However, she wasn't quite finished with Harry Burt.

'Harry? John and I have been through quite a bit recently, not forgetting all the people here who deserve a break as well, and I thought we'd have a party to celebrate...well, just to celebrate. Would you do me the honour of being a guest and I do mean a guest, not working. We can find someone else to 'do' the bar just for one night. You've always been such a support to us both and I would deem it an honour if you would come.'

Harry was briefly wordless, not a normal condition for him, then he replied with what looked like a hint of a watery eye, 'It would be _my_ honour, Mrs Sheppard.'

'And, Harry, you must bring someone with you know. I've asked Maria, and I don't think she's anyone to come with.'

Surprise followed by realisation flashed across his cheerful face. 'Mrs Sheppard! You're a wicked and cunning woman, do you know that?'

'Yes I do, my friend. And please call me Cat.' Job partially done she thought as she waved and left the bar. Let's hope the horse is prepared to drink!

***

Back in her quarters, Cat was contemplating what to wear for her 'date'. Mona had been packed off with Aunty Katie and Uncle Rodney, only kicking up a moderate fuss which subsided once she knew mama and dada were having an evening together. How such a little being could have such a developed sense of empathy was a mystery, but she seemed to understand her parents' need for time together; to grasp that it was all part of the healing process. Now, the only problem was what to wear. The French maid's costume was still hanging in the wardrobe, but this time she wasn't in control of the little charade, so she decided on the blue dress she'd worn on their first date. It was curious, she smiled to herself, that all her clearest memories and the first to come tumbling back, were those pivotal moments in their relationship as though her brain had shuffled to the top of the pack all those things that were most important to her.

Looking in the mirror she was a little shocked to notice how loose the dress was hanging. Oh well, a little more of Maria's cooking would sort that out and once her back was stronger and her leg broken and re-healed, then perhaps she could start running again, or at the very least try out some gentle moves with Teyla. In all the kafuffle, she hadn't thought it important to complain about the pain and stiffness she still suffered and she damn well wasn't intending to let it spoil this evening. Physical healing could come later.

John had planned carefully. The table was set, the little box in his pocket, and his costume, though drafty to say the least, was in place: he just hoped that Lorne was doing his job and nobody could see him right now! Ronon had promised to escort Cat to the pier and he was expecting them at any moment. The ocean and the city were doing their best to ensure that the evening was as romantic as possible, with a gentle breeze sending shimmies of warm spray into the air, gently sprinkling the edge of the pier so that it glistened with reflected moonshine. His heart was beating fast, though whether from anticipation or self-consciousness he couldn't decide. This was a risk for him, a man normally so reticent to 'show off' in public and he needed to remind himself that it was Cat he was meeting, but it still felt strange, as though he was having to woo her again. However, this time he was determined to do it right.

Ronon had said all the right things to Cat when the door had opened and she reflected upon the changes in the man over the years. Maybe it was having a 'permanent', if somewhat unorthodox relationship, with Amelia that had softened him a little, but he'd simply said, 'you look lovely, Mrs Sheppard. John is a very lucky man,' before proffering her a supporting arm and leading her to the pier. What neither John nor he would say to Cat was that they knew she was still struggling with her fitness and this was his way of 'helping out'. Now, she was standing at the entrance to the East Pier with anticipation and excitement. Ronon waved his hand over the door mechanism, smiled down and guided her through the door.

The sight that greeted her nearly made her laugh out loud, if the poor man hadn't looked so nervous. She knew how much it must have taken for him to dress up, always fearful of looking ridiculous, so instead she smiled and walked slowly over to where he was standing. Before her was a vision in black and white, a long striped- apron hanging down to the ground, tanned arms and feet bare and glimpses of a well-defined chest with pepper and salt hair just caught in the top hem of the garment. It didn't take much to work out that there was probably not much underneath and she was rather keen to find out how much but, as she neared and attempted to put both arms around him, he politely stepped back.

'Would madam like to take a seat?' he said solemnly. 'Cocktails will be served shortly.' With that he turned round and she saw precisely what he was wearing underneath, not able to curtail the girlish giggle that the sight if his pert and naked bottom caused.

'Well, I certainly hope so!' she said suggestively, causing him to wiggle his rear end at her.

There was a rustling around the corner and he returned, silver salver on the flat of one hand and two glasses shining in the moonlight. So, this was Harry Burt's new concoction!

'A 'Queens of Atlantis' for madam.' So, that was the little secret and the hint from Harry. The drink itself was in a tall elegant glass and was an amazing combination of rich blue and emerald green poured over crushed ice which somehow had little golden flecks in it. Harry had put together a cocktail to celebrate the blue eyes of the mother and the emerald ones of the daughter, combined over ice which she supposed to mean coolness in the face of danger. Not without some emotion, she was really touched by the gesture, she raised the glass to John's and silently made a wish: that this was the end of their troubles and calmer waters were to come and he nodded back, aware too of the moment. Then, he took the glass from her hand and placed it on the table, before he knelt down on both knees in front of her.

'Mrs Sheppard. Love of my life. It has come to my attention that something has been missing since your return.' With this, he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the little box, opening it to reveal a slender gold ring glittering with blue and green stones that were set all around it, matching so perfectly Harry's cocktail that she began to see how much John had a hand in everything to do with this evening. 'Would you do me the honour of marrying me? ' His hazel eyes were smiling, yet somehow still unsure, just as though she might really turn him down.

Tenderly, she said as steadily as she could, 'Of course I will, Colonel. Who could refuse such a dashing proposal' and she allowed him to push the beautiful ring onto her finger, the yawning gap left when The Asgard had taken everything from her finally sealed up with that circle. He leant forward and took her chin in his hands, pulling her lips towards him, kissing her in such a way that she melted into his arms. In all her years, she'd never met a man who could kiss quite like John Sheppard. It was only then that she remembered he was half naked and now he was kneeling down in front of her.

'Now, my man,' she grinned. 'Is this the only thing you intend to serve me tonight, or is there more on the menu?'

His eyes darkened and she could see him about to give into the moment, but then he recollected his 'plan' and rather stiffly stood up, turning away from her to hide his arousal, before facing her again. 'Now, madam is being rather forward, don't you think? There's the main course before dessert.' He couldn't resist a naughty wink, before disappearing back around the corner, this time emerging with a plate of her favourite food – some kind of local fish which was as close to Sea Bass as you could get, cooked to a very special and spicy Athosian recipe. She noted that there wasn't a plate for him. Kneeling in front of her again, he took a small forkful of the steaming fish and gently pushed it between her lips.

He stood up. 'Good?' he questioned, and smiled when she nodded. 'Now, let me see if it's really as tasty as The Chief claims!' Leaning over her, he kissed her fully, exploring her mouth with his tongue and sharing the taste of the delicious food. 'Mmmm!' he said, 'now that's tasty,' and he repeated the action again. So, this is why there was only one plate of food! For each mouthful, he kissed her and shared with her, and for each kiss she was becoming increasingly more hot and bothered. How sharing food like two feeding birds could be so sexy she couldn't imagine but it damn well was, especially when the other birds was so handsome and, let's face it, mostly naked.

Not until the plate was almost empty did he stop and put it carefully on the table. He took her by the hand and pulled her towards him, this time taking her arms and placing them on his behind, then turning he directed her to 'their' corner where he there was an enormous pile of Athosian cushions and quilts.

'This is our bed for the night, sweetie. Mona is staying with Katie and Rodney and Lorne has a rotation of very discreet marines guarding the door. We won't be disturbed. ' He crouched down and grasped the hem of her dress, knowing from experience that it would slide over her body with no need of zippers or belts to be undone, and he took it off in one deft movement. Cat gasped as the gently night air caressed her body, and again when he moved close, pressing his body against hers, and undid her bra strap, allowing the garment to drop carelessly to the floor. She could feel his heart beating faster through her breasts and tried to undo the string on the back of the apron.

'Not yet,' he whispered hoarsely.' I haven't quite finished .' She felt his hands slide down her body and push under the edges of her knickers, finding those places that he knew would drive her to distraction, before pushing them down and encouraging her to step out of them. It was incredibly erotic, standing there in the soft evening air, being caressed both by the elements and John and she began to lose herself entirely. Not in months had she felt so at peace and so beautiful. Gently, he laid her back on the cushions and stood back, undoing the little string at the back of the apron and letting it fall. Her eyes fell on his body and she felt as though she were seeing him for the first time, lean, toned and beautiful, and then he lay down with her, kissing her passionately, before his desire and her need to be loved finally overcame them and they made love, really made love. She revelled in the feeling of his body so close to hers and finally felt complete, the missing pieces all falling into place.

Finally, dozing against his warmth, a hand across his stomach making gentle circles so that she could almost hear him purring, she fell into a deep and restful sleep, safe at last. In the morning, two figures shrouded in brightly coloured quilts would be seen tiptoeing back to their quarters and along the corridors of the city, curling up in their own bed, ready to wake up to a fresh dawn.

_TBC_

_Well, there is one last chapter to go! A few loose ends to tie up. I hope all the thunkers, and all of you who aren't, enjoyed reading the East Pier scene as much as I enjoyed writing it!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks to all my lovely reviewers, as ever. Well, here it is. The final chapter. I hate this bit: it feels like I'm letting an old friend go. Hope you enjoy._

Sometimes when things are going right, when calm is restored after an explosion of trouble and pain, we forget about the rubble we leave behind: those whose lives we've inadvertently changed. Who knows what they think of us as we swan along happily, comfortable in the belief that all is well? Such it was for others as John, Cat and Mona found each other again.

On a far distant planet, a lone priestess knelt at the altar to her disgraced gods. It hadn't taken too long for the news to reach her which had initially shattered her strength of belief, founded upon centuries of endeavour and faith: their malevolent intent so evident, that they would take the innocent life of the Mother and care little for the welfare of the Child who was destined to be the saviour. But, as with other religions across the galaxy and beyond, those who worship devoutly quickly dismiss or subvert that which threatens to derail them, turning back to their beliefs often with a renewed ardour. So it was for her and her kin. Their solace was in the absolute knowledge that a girl child as foretold by their ancestors, a child messiah with the ancient gene, had been born into their world and was living proof that they had not been mistaken. For now, they would wait patiently for daughter and mother to return to them, prepared to worship and adore. For what Janet Donaldson had failed to decode in all her efforts to find Mona, her eye unfocussed on other hints and subtleties, was that the Mother was almost as sacred as the Child. It had been foretold that the goddess Nekhbet, Mother of Mothers, would save the blessed progenitor, saving her from the evil ones, those who had turned out to be their false gods, betrayers of the faith. And now, all they had to do was regroup and wait. One day, Mother and Child would return to them, fulfilling the ancient prophecy. With a new assurance, the Sisterhood settled back again, certain again of the long waited for outcome.

Another person, overlooked in all the fuss and excitement, had suffered greatly since Cat/Carla's 'rescue'. A pale, middle-aged man had found in his life someone to love. When the beautiful woman had 'appeared' on his planet, so damaged and without her memories, he took her up and cared for her. From the moment the others had brought her broken body into the tavern and laid it on the floor, he'd fallen in love in a way he'd never expected, feeling overwhelming tenderness and a powerful passion for the stranger. He knew, yes he did, that it wouldn't, couldn't last, that she must belong to someone, but he'd hoped too that she'd never be found or that her memories wouldn't return. Not a man to relish the 'outside' world, fearing the enormity of open space, he had always shut himself away, but now he found that he couldn't step outside the door. For a while, he grieved as though a loved one had died, refusing to eat to the point where he almost faded away, but now a new resolve had begun to form. It would take a while for Dane to act upon this discovered strength of will, not naturally being a man who took action, but in time he would find a way to meet her again. And, when that time came, he was determined that he wouldn't lose her again. Yes, he wasn't beaten yet. Carla would realise soon that he was the man for her. And, he'd show all those damn women who sneered at his apparent weakness what strength of will was all about.

Most of her memories had returned, yet there were still some black areas, or at least a little grey and she needed to know. She'd been filled in on everything that had happened in her absence, some of it painful to hear and digest, but sometimes things would catch her out. A face that she should know would greet her in the corridor (she'd become quite expert at the friendly smile and knowing nod) or an image would skim across her memory which she couldn't quite grasp. And, there was the unsaid 'thing', something that John was not saying but that she could sense was hanging there. There had been the awkward greeting from the pretty little scientist who had blushed at bumping into them one morning on their way to breakfast followed by his nervous silence afterwards. And after that, he'd stayed out a little later than usual, 'playing' with Rodney, supposedly tweaking the performance of their remote-controlled cars.

Other matters needed resolving too. She had some thank yous to deliver to those who had rescued her and looked after her. Larrin had been in touch to report on the events on the planet after her 'rescue'. Apparently Dane had taken it pretty hard and, not a man to venture outside anyway much, had become even more reclusive. She owed him and his people a debt of gratitude and wanted that debt to be paid by a visit in person. John hadn't been happy about the prospect and had been especially sullen when she'd said that she needed to thank the man who had taken her in and probably fallen in love with her. She remembered distantly him trying to kiss her the night before she left and, although she wouldn't admit to John, she couldn't remember if anything else had happened between them and she really, really needed to find out for her own peace of mind. She rather hoped, too, that they hadn't lied to her, that they really believed she'd been in an 'accident', and maybe she'd mumbled her name and they'd thought she said 'Carla'. On the other hand, it was entirely possible that Dane might have wanted to keep her for himself: Larrin had been less than flattering about the man and his prospects of finding a woman. In either case, she needed to go back. But, for now, that would have to wait. Woolsey, The IOA, Stargate Command, John, Teyla, and anyone else she cared to name were all absolutely against her taking the risk. Still, one day she would find a way to go back; to speak to those who saved her. It just felt like the right thing to do. But, for once in her life, she let herself be guided by others and let it lie.

There was also the little issue of what she was going to do from now on. I mean, her job had been taken by someone else and her shoes were being very well filled; she couldn't really insist that Janet Donaldson were asked to step down, not after all her good work, but where did that leave her? Cat was not a stay-at-home wife and she needed something to keep her occupied and to challenge her. She also needed time to fully recover with at least one more operation on the horizon. So, if not the job of Chief Archivist, what else could she do? Someone had suggested that she help in the nursery, but frankly spending all day with little children was not her forte and she knew that her patience couldn't stand the test. Mona was enough for her: in fact, Mona was enough 'toddler' for anyone! There was an idea, or at least a germ of an idea, beginning to form but she would put some demons to rest before she pursued it further.

Her days now were orderly and pre-planned, the habit of making a daily list of things to do having stuck from the earliest days of her recovery. Running was out of the question yet, but after she'd delivered Mona to the nursery, she would visit the gym and gently work out with Teyla and sometimes Ronan. A visit to Rodney too, sometimes just to look over his shoulder or to touch base if he were engrossed in his latest project, but at others challenging him to a game of chess. Since her return he'd beaten her most of the time, but she'd begun to win again the last couple of times: more evidence of her recovery. Of course, this entire carefully planned regime could be thrown into disarray if the team were called away and today was one of those days. So, with nothing else to do she settled down to organise the party.

This was to be the biggest party Atlantis had seen, at least in the life of its current occupants. As many of the colonists as could would attend, with the exception of those needed to man all the important posts. General Jack O'Neill had promised a visit on the returning Daedelus, Stephen Caldwell also invited to share in the celebrations. Cat was determined that the whole was a to be in honour of everything the outpost had achieved so far; for all the lives won and lost in their continuing battle to survive; for all the scientists who'd working all hours to ensure the expedition's success; for the technicians who oiled the city's cogs; for the doctors and nurses, teachers and carers who kept the city healthy. The West Pier was bedecked with garlands and decorations, courtesy of The Athosians, and Maria Johnson and her catering crew had worked for several days preparing the food. A temporary bar had been placed at one end and Harry Burt was absolutely banned from stepping behind it. Several marines had proved themselves to be quite adequate musicians and would be providing an odd mix of jazz, rock and something they called 'progressive', although it sounded nothing like progressive music Cat had ever heard.

As darkness descended upon the city on the night of the party, many of its occupants were desperately trying to fit into too tight suits or dresses that were slightly out of date and often a little moth eaten (or at least the galaxy's equivalent of moths, more highly coloured but able to give a nasty nip if caught unawares). Ronon wasn't bothered. He would dress as he always did, and he looked on amused as Amelia tried to look 'girlie' in a pink froufrou of a dress. Katie McKay was in the early stages of her second pregnancy, that awkward stage where nothing quite fits and nothing looks quite right, and Rodney's constant snarky chatter about parties and 'waste of time' wasn't particularly helping. Teyla had no such difficulty, her pale Athosian robe still sitting perfectly on her trim body. Richard Woolsey didn't know whether to dress up or dress down and had changed several times before he decided upon a smartish blazer and blue trousers; he was now sipping a glass of Merlot in an attempt to calm his nerves: not a man good in social situations. Maria Johnson was, with Cat's help, looked positively pretty in her long elegant dress and Harry Burt had donned his snappiest pin stripe. Currently, he was on his way to her quarters, a corsage in his hand, ready to do it 'right'. Jack O'Neill had arrived and would step to the party in Caldwell's company, two military men trying to be comfortable in civvies, pretending to be civilians but with that air of 'aging soldier' that never goes away: something in the upright stance and tension of the shoulders, as well as the sharp military edges of their hair cuts. The nursery was currently full of excited children, a small group of volunteers looking after them while their parents were readying themselves. Cat had been insistent: all children were welcome and should attend. After all, they were the future.

Cat was sitting on her bed, watching John get ready. She had no problem with her choice of outfit and it was amusing to watch his indecision, and quite pleasurable too as his toned body disappeared into a shirt then re-appeared as quickly as the thing was dismissed. In the end he caught her amused eye and stopped.

'Well, Lady smug! What are you smirking at?' He turned to face her, wearing nothing more than his black boxers, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of discarded garments.

'You're useless,' she smiled. Then, recollecting what she wanted to say to him, needing this resolved before the party, the smile faded. Okay, here goes: the thing that had been nagging away at her for several days now, ever since she'd seen the look that had passed between him and the dark haired scientist. 'John, can I ask you a question and please, I want an honest answer?'

'Okaaay,' he replied uncertainly. 'I'll do my best,' and with that sat down next to her on the bed.

'While I was away, was there anyone else? I mean, did you find anyone to spend time with? I wouldn't blame you, you know, I was away for a long time.' She knew that she wasn't being entirely honest with herself. Despite all the logic of the situation, she dreaded hearing him say 'yes' to her question, fearing the unwelcome and irrational sense of betrayal she knew she would feel if he did.

She could hardly bear to look in his direction, but felt rather than saw the stiffening of his shoulders which signified the tension that had crept into them. There was a long pause as he considered what he should say before he coughed to clear his throat and very firmly said, 'Yes, there was.'

Cat shut her eyes, trying not to let the tears break free that would betray her to him. She had been so determined that all she needed to know was the truth that she was unprepared for how the truth stung. 'Tell me about it? Please? I need to know. Did you have sex with her? Was it good?' Damn, now she'd gone too far and was in danger of ruining the evening for both of them.

Arms wrapped around her and she felt the soft down of his bare flesh against her clothes as he hugged her tightly. He rarely gave anything away with his voice yet there was something in its timbre that suggested the emotion he was feeling. Then, he put a hand under her chin and raised her face to his, demanding eye contact. 'Listen to me,' he said carefully and slowly,' nobody matters to me more than you. You are my life and my soul mate. You'd been missing, dead, for six months when it happened. It was just one night of sex, nothing else. And, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't good, but it wasn't great. Not like it is with you. You are the only one for me. Forgive me, please?'

Cat could see the urgency in his eyes, a request for her forgiveness or at least her acceptance. And, in the end, she couldn't say for certain that nothing had happened between her and Dane, some memories still blurred. It was time to put away the past and live in the now and for the future. 'Do you know something, John Sheppard? I love you too. Mind you, you have some serious making up to do before I'll forgive you.' His face began to relax and the smile returned more broadly when she said, 'I mean, you're already most of the way to naked and I'm wearing some very special underwear tonight that I had fully intended to reveal later. Perhaps now might be a better time?'

A hand moved to her knee, then slowly lifted her dress, while managing to caress up her thigh to her knickers. 'Oh my!' he exclaimed. 'Now there's a pleasant surprise. I think the party will have to wait for its host for a bit, don't you?' And somewhere in her befuddled brain she thought that she could get over his little 'indiscretion' if this were to be the outcome of his guilty conscience, so long as he didn't make a habit of it.

The West Pier swung with music and laughter, ripples riding across the waves, melting into the soft reflection of moonlight shimmering in the water. Lights glimmered, seemingly many more than on view, the city lighting up the party in her own unique way, sharing in the joy and festivities. Children scampered among the dancers, sliding under feet, laughter rising to the sky. Harry and Maria swayed across the dance floor, eyes only for each other, finally accepting that the achievable was far more alluring than the unattainable. For now, everything was okay. For a moment, the city was at peace.

John and Cat looked out across the ocean, and she took a deep breath of salty evening, breathing in more than just the soft air. With John by her side she could cope with anything the Galaxy should decide to throw at her. Just then, a little arm tugged at her skirt and she looked down to see the laughing eyes of her daughter, face flushed from the chase, and the three of them stood together, united in their enjoyment of the present and, for now, at peace.

_THE END_

_Well, there it is. The end of this story, but there's so much more to tell. Please R & R. It might encourage me to reveal more of their story and maybe, just maybe, some more East Pier scenes!_


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